The Kingdom of White Orchid
by The Last Leaf
Summary: The darkness of the Kuran family slowly seeping its poison into his flesh. There were many things that Haruka had sacrificed for his family, for the clan and for the vampires under him. In the end, Haruka began to wonder... and he began to desire.
1. The Mad Paradise

A/N: This fic contains a little spoiler from Ch. 35, 36, and 38, while it is not an important detail, but it is a spoiler/ information revealed exclusively in those chapters. Their spoiler-yness depends on your view, while it is not directly related to the current main characters or VK as a whole really, but before the fanfic, I am just going to explain a bit that was revealed so that you will understand this story better.

Spoiler:

Yes, Haruka (father) and Juuri (Mother) Kuran are Kaname's parent's official name which was revealed in chapter 35.

Yes, the Kuran and the purebloods committed incest in order to keep their blood pure, which was revealed in chapter 36.

Thus, Haruka and Juuri are actually brothers and sisters which prompt the creation of this fanfic.

With that in mind, I hope you would understand and enjoy this story better.

**Warning**: Strong incestuous relationships, dark themes, biblical reference, violence, and non-graphic sex

Disclaimer: VK is not mine.

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"'Cursed is the man who sleeps with his sister, the daughter of his father or the daughter of his mother.'

Then all people shall say,

'Amen!'"

-Deuteronomy 27:22

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**Prologue: Welcome to the Mad Paradise**

"So what are you going to do now, Haruka?" Her low, seductive voice asked hoarsely. She shifted lazily among the sheets as her dark locks slid like clear fluid with her slight movement. Her soft flesh glowed with unnatural paleness in the dim darkness.

"Haruka," she repeated softly, with a singing song tone. "Answer me..."

She crawled over on her fours, slowly and leisurely, with only the smallest attention paid to cover her nakedness with a white bed sheet by crumbling it against her breast.

He buttoned up his shirt precisely, and reached for his black tie, thrown onto the floor.

She embraced him from behind, pressing her tender form against his. Her alabaster chest upon his back and her cool breath tickled against his ear as she took an earlobe between her white teeth, gleaming molars, and scarlet lips.

"Tell me Haruka..." she whispered as her fingers ran through his identical dark hairs and the other dipped down the curve of his lovely face, drunken by his scent and beauty.

"How does it feel like... to take things that aren't of yours to touch?" She cooed, reminding him of last night when he unexpectedly showed up in her bedroom as she prepared to go to sleep, drying her hair with a soft white towel. She heard impatient knocks on the door and wondered who would visit her at this late hour. Rido, her oldest brother and now former fiancé, should be busy with arrangements and such because tomorrow night shall be their official engagement party.

Rido was the oldest of the Kuran siblings. Therefore he was entitled to her, the only pure daughter of the Kuran. The heir's children must be of the purest Kuran descendants thus she must be presented to the chosen heir and in their case, the elder son, Rido.

By process of elimination, it left only her gentle older brother, Haruka.

So when she opened the door, Juuri was not surprised to see him. She smiled and demanded the reason his presence as she assumed to pass on good wishes to her on their engagement. Only to be astonished, when he embraced her tightly and pulled off her nightdress roughly. The material screamed pitifully, but it was ignored.

She didn't smell alcohol in his clothes, and the clear and concise movement informed her that he was aware of his action.

She relaxed and allowed him to violate her.

After Haruka heard the inquiry, his shoulders tensed under her caresses, and he stood up suddenly from the bed.

She fell back against the bed. Her locks spread over like an oriental fan, loose and curls. She looked up at him somewhat enraged by his silence and aggression.

"If," he said calmly, still gazing into the darkness, "If I am such a sinful thief, then what are you, my sister, who welcomed me into your lustful harbor with open legs?"

She stared at him with startled eyes, and a pillow smashed against his face and splintered apart into white feathers.

"Get the hell out of my room!" Juuri hissed angrily, and the air crackled furiously with energy even though they both knew she wouldn't strike him seriously enough to injure.

"Of course," Haruka obliged with a sardonic smirk, "I must be hidden away before the maids come and see of this affair, mustn't I?"

"Not affair, an accident, yet speaking of this," Juuri recomposed herself, sitting up in her bed in a lady-like manner with the sheets carefully wrapped around her. "Congratulations, Haruka, you are now the inheritor of the Kuran clan."

"You may have broken the rules of the game, but," she continued with a cold devilish expression, "you have laid with me and now no other man can and will have me."

"Our common brother, Rido has lost this game since you have taken his fiancée, the prime instrument to the throne of our family, I, the only daughter of the Kuran", she bowed down respectfully as if she were a mere worthless slave to a holy saint, her hair slid down like a curtain of liquefied darkness. Her pale skin glowed like the moon. He could trace the protruding shoulder blades, the lurch of the spinal cord, leading the river deep into that mass of black silken threads. Her eyes, red as roses, glimmered through those.

"Welcome to this Mad Paradise," she greeted him.

"...my king, my brother, my new husband."

Haruka just regarded at her with cold eyes, and exited the room.

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**End of Prologue**


	2. The Red Dragon

**All previous warnings, disclaimer, and notes apply.**

**Credit to Obin as my Beta and fellow fangirl who helped the creation and development of this fanfiction.**

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"And there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters."

Revelation 8:10

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**Chapter One: The Red Dragon**

The horses' steps stroked clearly against the cobblestone street. The barest of the sun's rays peaked through the horizon, crystallized by multiple roof tops, but were quickly tucked away into the wintry night.

Nights were longer in the winter as gloom stretched itself eternally like overflowing water coating the cock robin blue sky, and desecrated the beauty of day.

He watched the dimming of the day as the streetlamps flashed on one by one, flickering on like falling dominos, as if lightened by the magical touch of a wizard's ward.

He rested his head on the back of his hand, carried with him an expression that young boy of fourteen shouldn't possess. He lowered his eyes away from the intense vividness of the lamps, as it prickled his red sensitive pupils, and toward the black shade of the carriage, he saw that his flesh was so deathly pale that it glowered softly in the darkness, akin to the full moon over the strolling carriage.

He watched the elegiac guardian overhead and imagined the moans of wolves in the deep dells of mountains back where he traveled from.

He fixed the cuffs of his white formal shirt lightly and carelessly as if he were just searching for an object to latch his attention on to.

The carriage eased into a full stop, before a magnificent wooden door that held the height of a giant, its panels sculped with images of the tainted history, dotted with reliefs of orchids and fleur de Lis, but upon its center, pressed the Kuran crest, monsterous in size, and beautiful in its elegance.

The door of the dark carriage swung open silently. A young maid in black held it carefully out with her head bowed respectfully to a precise angle.

"Welcome Master Kuran," she whispered in a sacred tone. She was alarmed of his presence tonight. She was informed that only close family would arrive for such event.

He smiled lightly, reminding her of the fashion of winds against willows, "Call me Haruka. I do not wish to be confused with other members of my family." He stepped down from the carriage. His foot carelessly tapped against the stone, slipping over elegantly them as if he were a sightless ghost, with no need of factual object to clutch onto.

The young maid hesitated, looked up into his exquisite lashed eyes, blushed slightly, and wisely obeyed him. "Yes Master Haruka. Please follow me," and ushered him into the great hall, illuminated only by few and low hanging lamps, creating a solemn atmosphere.

The stones were washed over by pale marbles and strong, pallid Corinth columns stood like lonely individual Cyclops, sad and waiting for the return of nobody. They extended their heads into the smile of heaven where murals as if it were created by the gods, not painted with life, filled the comatose mansion with something so pure and gentle that even the evilest would be quieted upon the sight.

Haruka passed by painting after painting, first the fall of man, where Adam bit into the delicious fruit of sin, then the death of Jesus, as the lugubrious prophet spoke words to an invisible god and screamed for the suffering and sin, and lastly, for the end is approaching, the collapse of Babylon, of the woman in purple and her red dragon, hissed vehemently from their dwellings in the wall.

Each told of rebirth and Haruka chuckled, vaguely amused at its irony and its deep belief rooted in words of man.

The maid twisted the magnificently sculpted door open with another bow.

"Thank you," he said softly, as if the very words were caressed by the tender sea, spreading another blush over her face.

He entered the waiting room, showered by the yellow lights streaming down from the crystals of the heavily ornate chandelier.

"Am I late?" Haruka asked as he entered the room and finally allowed a hint of concern into his gentle voice.

His elder brother of couple of years sprawled languidly on the Louis IX couch, and lifted his head slightly when he heard the commotion, but drooped down quickly when he realized it was Haruka.

"No," Rido answered lazily like sleepy tiger, stretching its sharp claws, "I've been here for a couple of hours, and she did was scream her head off."

"Is Father alright?" Haruka found a straight-backed chair, and sat down, slumped against the back, closed his eyes in an attempt to rest and reserve some energy.

"He seemed to be fine, mum is the only who you should be worry about, Haruka," Rido rolled onto his front, crumpling the suit he donned on quite efficiently. "How did the negotiation at the Conference go?"

Haruka sighed and ran fingers over his silken black locks. "Completely horrendous. The President wanted the raise the tariff 4.5 percent to give way to inflation so the farming product prices would stabilize, but Congress overturned the proposal since they decided that it would be disastrous to business and trade."

"And? Did you solve the issue?"

"They wanted to amend the Bill, but the President wouldn't budge. The whole situation is at a stalemate. They adjoined the conference to another date as the country's borderlining a complete economical collapse." Haruka massaged his forehead as it throbbed painfully and continuously ever since he left the unsuccessful meeting in a hurry upon receiving the news that his mother was in labor.

"Do you want me to take over the situation?" Rido asked as his single azure pupil glimmered sinisterly in the darkened chamber, studying his beautiful brother's profile, "That sounded interesting. I would do it if you wish it to be so."

Haruka shook his head, his locks swayed with the movement. His dark and delicate maroon eyes still determined though weathered by weary and worried of the horrible time and plight. "I can handle it. Father gave the assignment to me. I am going to speak to both parties privately to draw up another Bill that they will both be satisfied with."

Rido waved his hand in the air, "Good luck. Dad did say that it would be an amusing task for you."

"Amusing?" Haruka smiled bitterly. "Oh, I assure you. I am quite amused by it."

His nerves felt rather frizzled as he trying to smooth those untamed wires, and his mentality exhausted by a whole day, speaking and arguing with an old and stubborn human who didn't understand why such a young child of adolescent was there and questioned his authority endlessly and repeatedly.

The passage way to their common parent's room burst open, and their father's face materialized from the darkness of the chamber.

The brothers stood up immediately, but both parted their mouths to speak, yet restrained their tongue forcefully for news.

Their father's handsome face split into a beautiful smile, one of the most beautiful that Haruka had ever seen their father wore, and he said jubilantly, "It is a girl."

Haruka's tensed shoulders dropped down as he relaxed his tight muscles. He ran his hand over his brows, and sighed again.

Pureblood births were always difficult and treacherous journey for the parent and the fetus. The Pureblood specimen itself was a very bloodthirsty and powerful class of creature amongst the ones who walked this world, and its children were heinously identical with their original parents in their desire of power. Thus, when a pureblood child is in his mother's womb, the baby sucked on their mother's life slowly but steadily, or in some case, began to devour their own mother's flesh from within, tearing apart their creator's organs and feasting upon them. When the mother could no longer bear the baby, the mother would crumple into a comatose state and both parties would waste away. Pureblood births were very difficult, and often required great attention to examine both parties' movement. Its mortality rate was higher than any other creature's, so pregnancies were planned very warily. They were monster even at such unconscious stage, destined to be bathed in tragedies and bloodshed , entered the world bearing upon the sin of matricide.

"Really?" Rido grinned happily. "So there is no mistake this time."

"No, there is no mistake at all. It is a healthy girl," Father confirmed with a single firm nod in Rido's direction.

Haruka watched Rido with a sudden glint flashing over his eyes, but when Rido sensed it and glanced sharply over, Haruka swiftly hidden the glint away into the depth of his knowledge, and replaced it with a natural smile that brightened his worn features.

"Where is the child?" Rido demanded curiously, hungry for the child. His wild hair curled with his excited state as it embodied even more beast-like qualities than before.

"May we meet our little sister?" Haruka inquired of his father for he too was interested of their newest lovely member.

"Go ahead," his father agreed, "But be quiet. Your mother needs her rest."

Haruka's heart pounded furiously inside him as Rido's infectious happiness contaminated him, and he found himself yearn to view their little sister. She must have inherited their common mother's great regal beauty, those great seductive smoked eyes, curling scarlet lips, ochre ringlets, and petal-like soft flesh. A beauty that none on earth had ever bared witness to, a beauty of nature, like the calm ocean of early winter and late autumn, where the pale sea water runs over the even paler sandy shore and lines blurred between ocean and sky, like those imagined fantasies that foolish human often reached for in their quest for immortality.

Yes, she will be beautiful and many will seek for her hand in marriage, hoping the whispered rumors of her engagement would be fictitious, but she will be carefree and loved, treasured so that no harm or wrinkle will drip upon those exquisite dark brows identical to his and theirs.

When Haruka leaned over to the sleeping child in the frilly casket, he discovered exactly that. The baby's deep sleepiness undisturbed by their intrusion with its tiny hands balled together against in plumb, soft face, and its tiny features brightened the murky room where their mother fell into a dreamless slumber, so fatigued by the birth that a cautious pureblood such as she didn't even stir when they entered.

With Rido still stared at the white holiness of the girl in amazement, Haruka leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against her milky forehead. She tasted like familiar warm things and sweet honey and everything that he thought to be absolutely wonderful.

His eyes reflected with tenderness and love for his sister. Haruka held the child in his arms, patting it lightly, and felt the desire to press many more kisses against her forehead in the future.

The baby girl suckled on his finger, curiously staring at him, cocking its head sideways, with those eyes laced by black long lashes.

He could feel his energy and life flowing freely from his body, injecting themselves into her, becoming a part of her soft, smoothing aura. Haruka should stop her, but he didn't, because he enjoyed the sensation her wet pink tongue tickled, and he was quite potent and much small drops of life wouldn't be much against him, against the long endless life stored within each pureblood, that broadened before him into a deserted, sad little pathway.

A warm affection he never know before blossomed for her, like gentle waves, it overflowed him, and he felt as if he was sinking into a endless lukewarm lake and he had no longing to struggle up to surface and breath again.

"You are quite fond of her," Rido muttered from behind, scrutinizing Haruka with critical gleam, something raw and brute that twisted and hissed like a treacherous serpent.

"She is my little sister, why shouldn't I like her?" Haruka questioned rather hastily. His melancholy eyes flickered toward Rido momentarily, but darted back at the baby.

Rido sat by Haruka on the 18th century canapé, barely brushing by Haruka's side, and stroked the girl's soft, feathery locks.

"Dad and I decided that her name will be Juuri, 'In the trees', because she is the gift from the tree of heaven, where all life was created from." Rido explained with a smile, as his long pale fingers played with her hair and caressed her flushed cheeks.

"Juuri Kuran?" Haruka repeated her name several times in his mind. "I like it."

"Oh, dad and I also discussed about her engagement. I've convinced dad to hold off the wedding until she turned eighteen," Rido continued on with a balanced light tone, carefully observing Haruka's reaction.

"Oh," replied Haruka absent-mindedly, still occupied with the child's play with an elbow, leaning against the cherry wood handle. "Why is that, it is our tradition for the wedding to be held at the sixteenth year, on the sixteenth night, under the sixteenth moon?"

"I wanted her to have more time adjusting to that idea than to marry at an impressionable young age. Anyways, dad wants to have a word with you about the Conference."

"I shall take my leave then," Haruka stood up from the luxurious chaise longue by the cradle, and handed the smiling child to Rido. "Is Father in his study?"

Rido nodded and accepted the child gently, and shifted his focus back to his Juuri, who now stared at him with a delighted smile and a bubble of giggle.

But as Haruka opened the door, Rido said from behind him, still fiddling with Juuri's threads of curls, "Remember Haruka, she is my fiancée."

Haruka stiffened for a split second, and closed the door behind him.

"You wished to speak with me?" Haruka entered the dark and musty study, long severed its ties with the sunlight.

Only a yellow lamp ignited the lavished chamber with walls crammed with leather-backed tomes on various complicated subjects, ranged from medical science to philosophical debates, and files of documents strewed across the main desk, some propped open and some still lingered close to be leafed through.

His debonair father sat sternly behind the desk, lowered his pen as his youngest son closed the mahogany door, and sat down across from him politely, waiting respectfully for Father to address him.

"Yes, I want to know what exactly you are going to do for our dear neighbor, Libitya, and its current crisis," his Father commanded strictly, placing his hands together on the desk, waiting for a response.

Haruka met his Father's searching gaze head-on without flinching and lowered his eyes so he could not be interpreted so easily, preparing his answer.

"I am," Haruka began evenly and leisurely, leaned back on his chair languorously, "I am going to start a war."

"Start a war?" his Father raised an eyebrow, interested and surprised by the bloodiness plan of his usually unusually gentle and kind young son.

"Yes," Haruka said simply.

"Would you please elaborate?"

"I am going to send an assassin to kill the Archduke of Richmonde who is due to visit the country, Cyria, one week from now. Cyria and Richmonde had always retained a very tension-filled and hostile relationship due to some historical differences. If the Archduke is killed during his visit in Cyria, and the killer leaves a note, claming Cyria's greatness and anger toward Richmonde, then a war will surely break out," Haruka took apart the simple threads of his intricately woven arrangement indifferently, piece by piece, allowing them to fall into its places before his eyes from his fingers.

"How will this war help my neighbor, the country of Libitya, whom I specifically assigned you to?" Father questioned, still quite entertained, and fascinated by this strand of callous cruelty that he never discovered in his son below that flawless skin of superficial perfection.

"Libitya had long been an ally of Cyria, through closely bounds of trade. They will surely go to war despite their pathetic state for their silly honor, and with a single push from me and my supporters, it will pull Libitya into the war. The benefits of this war are that it will force the government to spent money on factory production for war material. It will create jobs and projects for the underprivileged. The men will leave for the war, which meant more are available. With money, the people will be able to buy and invest in consumerism. Thus in return, began more factory production. The whole economy will start to run again, albeit slowly at first, but nevertheless it is progress," Haruka paused, and ended unsympathetically, "and that is my plan."

Father gazed at Haruka with an unreadable expression and laughed softly, clapping his hands. "I am impressed, very impressed."

"Thank you, "Haruka replied humbly.

"But how will this benefit the Kuran family? That is a long way to go, no?" Father reminded Haruka of his most important mission, the whole reason why he was placed into a foreign nation's government in the first place.

"I've bribed and blackmailed many important members of the Congress, so they are now under our control. In case of emergencies, they will be our friends in many situations. A percentage of the profit gained by the war will come directly into our hands. I've formed a trust in Aidoh's name of the companies that will be ensured to play a significant part in the war. Our gain is estimated around 110 billion dollars," Haruka said calmly, picking out the delicious pieces of what his Father would be pleased to hear. "The leaders in that country are pathetic, and I could only set up so many institutes to keep their economy hanging while I attempt to restore their pitiful economy. This is the fastest and most efficient solution I could think of."

"Excellent," Father commented briefly. "I look forward to the solidifying of your admirable blue prints. You may leave now."

But Haruka pressed on, "Father, would you promise that this plan stays in this room? I do not wish others hear of this."

"Of course it will," Father assured, looking almost pitifully at his son. "Nothing will ever leave this study."

"Thank you," Haruka pushed the desk and stood up from the chair.

As Haruka placed his hand on the serpentine knob, his father said in a lazy and meaningful tone, fingering his golden fountain pen idly, "Rido was quite worried about you, Haruka. So much that he asked for me to interfere with your plans, but it appeared that such action isn't needed. You should, however, thank him for his concern."

Haruka turned a light degree, enough to watch his Father from the corner of his thinned eyes. "Is that so? I will be sure to express gratitude to him. Thank you for informing me."

"No problem." Haruka heard his Father chuckled maliciously as he left the study.

He passed by the three paintings again as he returned back to his carriage, going back to finish his plot. He was never going to stay long. He had many, complex assignments to complete from his Father.

The warmth that Juuri gave him had long evaporated from his fingers and he felt as cold as a deceased corpse.

But he remembered those murals well, fallen Adam, suffering Jesus, and corrupted Babylon.

Babylon, Jesus, and Adam...

Yet the last image he saw before he fell into a light doze against the grip of the window were not of those, but the red dragon, opening its clawed mouth, hissing furiously until he could almost felt its disgusting hot breath, and swallowing him with a single clasp of mouth.

As the rosy dawn peeked its head over the horizon, Haruka could hear the sound of his bones scream as they splintered apart, his decaying milky flesh rotting into a crimson putrid mess.

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I want to thank everyone who reviewed, favored, or alerted this fic.

I hope this sudden change in time isn't confusing anyone, and don't worry, this political talk is only in this chapter to establish Haruka's position and his relationships. I won't write so much political plots in later chapters, although they will make guest appearances since they are a significant part of Haruka's life. No deep understanding is required. If anyone is interested, the depression taken place in the hastily named fictional countries is based on the Great Depression with a few facts altered and combined.

Thank you for reading, and I would appreciate if reviewed.


	3. The Apocalypse of the Theologian

**All previous warnings, disclaimer, and notes SERIOUSLY apply.**

Credits to Obin as my friend and Beta.

Delicated to my friends Julnika and Panda

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"And behold a great red dragon, having seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns upon his heads. And his tail drew the third part of the stars of heaven, and did cast them to the earth."

-Revelation 12:3

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**Chapter 2: The Apocalypse of the Theologian**

The war blossomed into a beautiful red rose under Haruka's care, but it also quickly spiraled out of his control as its powerful vines and piercing thorns broke free from its secret gates, like a raw monster, with its jaw ajar, spit dribbling down its long, sharp and gleaming teethes, lusting for blood and carnal.

He had fashioned a repulsive creature, stemmed from mankind's imprudent hatred, and its stench clung onto his white sleeves like hungry leeches, intertwining with his sordid organs and blood.

The war persisted longer than Haruka's calculation, which landed him in a little obstacle. His purpose was achieved and the war began to lag on the newly revived economy. It further confirmed to him the truth that human are idiotic beings who did not listen to the paramount guidance, instead, resting their verdict on emotive reasons than hearing the rational voice.

Haruka hastily gathered up all the resource he could grasp onto, firepower, brilliant strategist, and futuristic technologies. The influence of the Kuran family should not be underestimated, he warned his enemies in the Congress. He implanted those treacherous weapons into the government, and at the right moment, unleashed those creatures on the poor Richmonde, who was already war-worn, suffering from supply shortage with its furious citizens demanding for an end. It finally collapsed under Haruka's pressure and power.

Richmond quickly surrendered on the first day of spring four years after the birth of Juuri.

Haruka returned to Libitya swiftly as soon as the black ink of the treaty dried since his purpose to linger no longer existed. He completed the dreary obligation, and cleaned up the responsibilities. His Father would find naught to be critical of.

Haruka surveyed the room where he spent six years, trying to complete his task, where he sat many hours, pondering and drawing up plans after plans until his thoughts were so crammed with political gains and losses that he feared he was going mad, ensnared with those tangled emotions within himself. But he couldn't and he can not. He mustn't fall to prey to those weaker emotions.

It was not a place he called home. He did not feel attachment to it.

He closed the door, thanked the landlord for hosting him for six long and tedious years.

Haruka had hastily packed his bags, two simple luggages, and fled from Libitya, an endless spoiled nightmare, in a nearly uncouth fashion.

He said farewell to no one, not to his colleagues or his political partners. He did not wish to see them.

But no matter how much distance he placed himself away from that red ruby of a country, those repulsive odors haunted him, clutched onto the threads of his clothes, always loitered somewhere in a dark nook on the back of his mind, with moans and cries of people whose death he was accountable of, who wasted away under the machinery he brought, and withered underneath the famine and diseases that shadowed war-torn plains. He could see vermillion spots dirtied his beautiful, white fingers, fingers that shouldn't be tainted, and he couldn't escape, except to allow those ghosts to overtake him, to allow himself become numb to those sins that he committed, a remuneration of sort. While everyone viewed him as clean and righteous politician, he wanted to just simply disappear, to fade into nothing, but white nameless fogs.

* * *

This city had many names in its extensive, infinite life. For the longest time, it was branded as Berlin, where the placid black forests inhabited. He wondered its streets, chilled by fresh spring air, and the closing blossoms that dot on the verdant scenery in the late afternoon.

Haruka attracted a bit of attention with his tailored formal wear and a flawless appearance of a veneer gentleman. The curious glances and hushed chattering annoyed Haruka as he desired for just some evanescent peace within his turbulent reflections that were as livid and unrest as the dark ocean on the brink of a factious tempest.

He should report back to his parents. They were expecting him and there was a small cocktail party in his honor for accomplishing such glorious and labyrinthine mission.

"Master Kuran," his guardian materialized from behind him. "You should return to the Mansion. Your parent awaits."

"I should, shouldn't I?" Haruka heaved a sigh, closed his eyes wearily, and turned to the silver-haired girl. "I won't make your job difficult. Let us return to my home."

"Please Master Kuran, your carriage is this way," the stoic youth bowed down and beckoned at the carriage.

"Fine," he followed her with one last look at the commoner's city behind, ascending into his darkly luxurious carriage.

An iron curtain descended across him and the bright human world that shimmered beautifully as if golden dust had settled over its gilded roads and buildings, deeming that world to be encaged in a chrysalis, forever sealed in the throat of immortality and fortune.

The golden orange sun eclipsed over the tiled roofs, and Haruka narrowed his eyes as he watched the flaming ball.

Haruka closed his eyes with another sigh, and embraced his own darkness.

The horses cobbled steadily on toward the Kuran Mansion, a luminous monstrosity that stalled on the pinnacle of a cold and aloof hill in the distance, overlooking its kingdom of golden orchids, its fields stretched forever into the horizon.

Haruka fixed his appearance with a small wave of his hand.

* * *

The party was a dreary and boring affair as those social gatherings always were. Men of much prominent and affluence, dazzling in their expensive suit stitched by foreign sewers, gathered in circles, discussing their business dealings with as arrogance flashing in their pompous manner, and unmarried women scrutinized for perfect groom, while housewives murmured excitedly among themselves of the latest gossip.

But all the buzzing cacophony halted immediately, and they all clapped enthusiastically for Haruka when the French doors parted grandly for him, all showering him with praises of his creative mind and elegant handling of the war, and spewing imperative extortion about his splendor and his sacred Kuran blood.

Haruka smiled graciously, and modestly excused himself from the surrounding and choking crowd of admirers to greet his radiant Mother with a small peck on the cheek, and shook his Father's hand.

"I am very pleased with how this turned out," his Father whispered contently as he handed Haruka a scarlet martini. "You shall be rewarded for this."

"Cheers." Father raised his glasses, saturated with some enchanting crimson substance.

"Cheers," Haruka took a small sip of the drink politely, before placing it carelessly on the table.

"Reward isn't necessary," he refused with an easy smile. "I didn't do anything."

His Father gazed at Haruka with an odd glint that revolted Haruka so.

"That's too bad, because I've already gave the reward," Father relied lightly. "Please do and try to enjoy it. I'm certain that you will be pleased by it."

"I'm sure Father will make the best decision," Haruka replied casually.

Haruka grew uncomfortable underneath such searching eye and asked to be excused.

"Oh, please, do as you may," his Father said pleasantly. His crimson eyes wrinkled with a perplexing grin, and parted ways for Haruka to pass.

Haruka muttered a gratuitous response and turned toward the exit to the inner chambers.

Outside the ballroom, as the doors fell to a close, the obnoxious laughter was silenced, and the yellow lights swung close. The familiar alcove fluttered in the wind and monotonous colors as the night blanketed itself over the sun.

Haruka, relieved, climbed up a flight of marble stairs to refresh himself before diving into that mess of politics and polite chats again.

Quite occupied in his own labyrinth of clouded conscious, Haruka did not notice the little flower child that stood in his path, staring at him with dark pupils, brimming with cold antagonism.

"Who are you?" her childish mellifluous voice rang out like warning bells. Her tongues carefully twisted around these words.

Haruka looked up blindly, and unearthed the small ivory doll, kissed and blessed by the beautiful and mysterious night, who inherited all of her fantastic qualities.

Haruka's lips tilted gently and his eyes glimmered blissfully, "Good Evening, Juuri."

"Who are you?" the small elfish girl demanded once more, pursing her cherry-red lips. Her white, surprisingly austere dress fluttered in the rose- odored breeze.

He looked warmly at her. Her pale body elongated over the years as the baby fat ebbed away and as her face thinned, her innate prettiness became more pronounced.

Her exquisite allure still untouched for she did not understand the power she held with her superficial charms. Long silken threads curled into ringlets in the night breeze, longing to be caressed. Her large melancholy eyes laced with long lashes and filled with a pure, sultry redness that attached its curse onto anyone. Slender and creamy body shimmered faintly a glow akin to a saint to holy crown, so soft and reminded him of the petals of white roses, yearned to be bruised and kissed with other darker hues.

He was wrong. She was not equivalent to his seductive mother. She outshone her mother, may it be beauty or that luscious manner she carried herself.

"I am Haruka, nice to meet you, Juuri," Haruka allowed the wind to bring his answer to her.

"Oh," her unhappy expression slipped from her visage as she became flushed and embarrassed by her rude behavior, scorned by her lesson about being a gentle woman and royalty. "You are Haruka. The party is in your honor, my brother."

"Yes, it is, my sister," Haruka's face was delicate and temperate as the early spring.

"So you two have met already," a languid voice said silkily as his truculent elder brother's curling mane and face materialized from the shadows behind Juuri. The odd iris shimmered, and its azure blueness glowered.

"Good evening, Rido," Haruka greeted him pleasantly. "How have you been?"

"Fine," Rido shrugged, placing a vigilant hand on Juuri's fragile shoulders. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"Yes, she is," Haruka agreed, nodding. "I heard Father is sending you to a new assignment soon."

"Yeah," Rido answered shortly, running a hand through his wild locks, glaring at Haruka with the coldly unnatural pupil as a mocking lamentation. "I am leaving in a couple of days. Congratulations on your success. I guess you changed a majority of your plans since we last spoken."

"Yes, I did, good tidings with yours," Haruka wished, looking away from the pair in front of him into the dark night before him. "I need to freshen up. Our guests downstairs still wait."

"Of course," Rido said to Haruka, then to Juuri rather in a softer tone, "C'mon let's get ready to present the Princess of Kuran." He began to steer Juuri away.

Juuri looked back inquisitively, and mumbled in a small voice that still reached Haruka. "I'm sorry about earlier."

Haruka shook his head, and his lengthy black locks overshadowed his eyes, caressed his face, swept by the wind. "I don't mind," he mouthed, and smiled kindly at her.

Juuri blushed deeply and twisted away quickly and defiantly before disappearing into the shadows with Rido.

Haruka's friendly smile disintegrated as soon as she left, and he continued to his room with a pondering mind, but the center of his palm warmed a little bit. He squeezed it tightly, trying to preserve it, but after a while, it escaped from him, leaving no trace of its whereabouts.

He wondered if the Christian canvas of redemption still loitered in that hallway for he was quite fond of those heinous pictures.

But he had many things to prepare and produce. Being a son of a Kuran did not leave him much idling time to invest in petty pleasure and sumptuous goods.

He showered, allowing the healing water to run and mollify his tired body and mind, strained by many complicated matters of importance. The hot water appeased him and for a silver of a moment, he grasped the revitalizing freedom, no longer chained by the imperious and impervious spider webs of blood and kin, tangled among those gentle, deathly threads.

Haruka dried himself with a white towel simply before fetching a black trouser, and white stiff-fronted cotton piqué shirt, completing his formal wear with a low-cut waistcoat, and black tailcoat with satin facings.

Finished button up his vest, Haruka observed hinself in the mirror, eyeing the glossy and soft texture of the textile. His silken hair was still damp from the shower, but he was proper with every garment in place, and much to Haruka's chargrin, ready to resume entertaining their adorable guests with his lovely family.

The Red dragon gloomed overhead.

Haruka looked up, gazing, mesmerized by its satanic horror and gilded majesty.

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you for reading. Sorry for the wait, and the short chapter as it performs as a transition. I promise the chapters to come are much, much longer.

I need to address an issue that is going to pop up later as this fic continues.

This is not a happy fanfiction, nor will it be one to concern itself with morality. I started 'Kingdom' as a boredom project that spiraled into a multi-chapter fic because some friends who wanted to see what happened after the prologue, which was once a one-shot. The plots I planned out are not suppose to be moral, fluffs, or something to please others. They are meant to show the corruption and the darkness in the vampire society, and to explore the nature of vampires just because that was what I wanted to write.

When I wrote down the warnings on the prologue page, I meant it. When I write incestuous relationship**s**, I actually mean that. There will be more than one, and I am not sure if you can accept that. If you are already uncomfortable with the fanfic so far, then please stop reading it. The story will continue to descende steadily into a darker shade. Chapter 1 is probably as joyful as the Kuran family is going to get.

Anyways, that is all I am going to say about it, and this is my last warning to you.

Thank you.


	4. The Darkness of Men

**All previous warnings, and note apply.**

**Disclaimer: Hino owns VK.**

**Credits to my friend and Beta Obin, and delicated to my friends in the Kaname FC**

* * *

"Let burning coals fall upon them: let them be cast into the fire; into deep pits, that they rise not up again."

-Psalm 140:10

* * *

**Chapter three- The Darkness of Men**

The torrid afternoon sun burned Haruka's pale skin as he shielded his eyes from those deathly rays, squinting his eyes slightly as he observed the bright flame ball and its surrounding clouds.

He sighed lightly. It was going to be a bright sunny day, lasting so until the night would return again. He knew Father would have not allowed him to sit around the mansion and eat bonbon idly like a spoiled royal, but had it have to require him to wake up at unholy times and mingle with humans to improve his social skills, and internal knowledge of the workings of the mysterious world that concealed even its secrets to its proudest and best creation, the most refined creature that walked this earth.

"Haruka, are you going home?" a brunette human girl that he had identified from an advanced macro economy course walked up behind him, asked eagerly, hurrying beside him to match up to his elegant, but swift pace of steps that he had adopted.

Haruka nodded and titled his lips lightly, "I don't have anymore classes this afternoon."

The candid girl appeared disappointed for a moment with her lovely brows in a bow, but brightened at the sight of his easy smile. "Are you doing anything…"

But Haruka had not heard her for he spotted someone standing in front of the elaborated university gate, underneath the cool shades of the oaks. Her soft curls upheld and twisted into pigtails which cascaded down into loose ringlets by her frail shoulders. She rubbed her eyes wearily after restraining a small yawn from breaking out of her pink lips.

"Excuse me," Haruka apologized courteously to the girl as his maroon eyes focused sorely to the little vampire.

Haruka fastened his pace, and touched the little girl's locks affectionately when he reached her.

He bent down on his knees, ruffling her hair, and smiled gently, making the untoward girl still beside him blush at such blatant display of veneer splendor.

"What are you doing here?" even his voice was softer and kinder toward his little sister.

"I am waiting for you," Juuri blinked back tired tears. "Father said that you would be out around this time. He said that I could come out if I took Yue with me." She motioned the silver-haired youth leaning o the tree a few meters behind, who Haruka had detached from the moment he turned eighteen. Forever protection was reserved for the heirs of the family, and he was not.

"How long have you been waiting for me?" Haruka demanded, concerned over her lack of energy.

"Not that long. Who is she, Haruka?" Juuri extended a finger toward the girl still beside him. "I've never seen her before."

Haruka glanced at her carelessly as if she were nothing but a mere piece of airy substance. "She is my classmate, Laura. Laura, this is my little sister, Juuri Kuran."

"Nice to meet you, Juuri," Laura smiled brightly at the little girl.

But Juuri nodded only once in her direction, acknowledging her existence. Her exquisite face was devoid of the sugary sweetness that seemed to be natural to her when she spoke to Haruka.

"Can we go home?" Juuri grabbed Haruka's fingers softly, letting an element of pleading into her voice. "I am so tired, and you promised that you would teach me tonight."

"Sure," Haruka obeyed her. "Good-bye, Laura. I will see you tomorrow."

Laura waved hesitantly. "See you, Haruka."

"Let's go home, Juuri," Haruka whispered to Juuri as he secured her from the sun for he could not let the radiant sun bruise her poor and fragile skin.

"What don't you understand?" Haruka rested against the spongy armchair, before returning to a proper position with his back stray and hands together across his lap.

He leaned against Juuri, trying to see the process of her equation to understand why she couldn't arrive to the answer. He could taste the luxurious flower scent she rinsed her silken locks with.

He took into a long whiff, allowing the sweet and sultriness of her exotic fragrance to cloud his judgment for a moment.

"I think it is this place over here…" Juuri marked the spot unhappily, angry at her inability to solve the problem. She was a pureblood vampire. She should be able to solve this with ease, like Haruka and like Rido, to produce an answer with just a magical twirl of a pen.

"It is just a simple careless mistake," Haruka comforted her, taking her pen-wielding fingers into his, and guided her to write down the correct way. "See you just didn't bring the x to over here. It is nothing to be upset about…"

"Those are also quite advanced problems. I am surprised that they are allowing you to learn this," Haruka said, his eyes lingered on the worksheet, calculating swiftly each answer and comparing it to Juuri's dexterity in this area of science.

"Rido told me that I have to learn this by the time he returns," Juuri clarified with an unsatisfied and acrid air.

"I'm sure that it is out of his good intention. If you wish, though, I could speak to Rido, or Father when he comes back from his trip, about altering the course to a more expected level." Haruka entreated, looking at Juuri with concern.

Juuri shook her head quickly. "No, I can handle this. Plus, didn't Haruka also go through this difficult course when you were young? If you can do it, then I can do it," she glared at the piece of paper with determination.

Haruka observed her with a tender glint in his eyes. "Of course, my princess."

Haruka glanced unthinkingly at his watch. "Our mother should be awaking from her slumber now… I will go greet her."

"Shall I go with you?" Juuri lifted her head from the work.

"No, finish this. Mother will see you later," Haruka bit his lips pensively, but remained perfectly composed. He sensed another presence in the house with Mother. It was not of Father or anyone he would recognize immediately.

He advanced with agility but soundlessly toward his parent's chamber, his fine brows becoming more and more trenchant with each step that brought him closer. Maybe he was just being quixotic about his Mother, but he hated the feeling of unsettledness bubbling inside him.

"What is going on here, Mother?" Haruka swung the door open without any faltering sighs, and stepped into the room calmly, which echoed sadly through the spines of the whole hallway.

His mother stretched languidly under velvety sheets on the capricious bed she and Father shared for many years, upward before its twisted headboard was the tapestry of the Kuran crest. Her similar vampiric flesh glowed softly under the moonlight, inviting carnal monsters to induce in its aroma.

But it was not that which captured Haruka's attention. It was the unrecognized vampire that was frantically donning on his clothing.

Haruka looked away out of simple politeness.

"You may go, Lovett, Haruka will not harm you. Am I correct, Haruka?" his Mother said lazily as she ignored her spectators, stepped out of those tangled sheets with her nakedness as if she were without company, and slipped herself into a flamboyantly printed yukata, hysterically breeding red orchids, carelessly tying it together in a loose bow.

The vampire glanced at Haruka fearfully before escaped out of the window into the night.

Haruka's hand balled into a tight fist, but he did not speak a word until his mother strolled before him, gazing at him through her thick eyelashes and wine red pupils that reminded him so much of his own and even more of Juuri's, for the latter had inherited most if not all of their Mother.

"You will not be a little sneak and speak of this to your Father, right, my dear Haruka?" she whispered in a low and charming voice very near his ear. He could feel the way her tongue flickered as she mumbled each word especially when she pronounced each distinct syllables of his name. "Ha ru ka…"

Her hands slinked around his neck, and fingering his ties and straight collar silkily.

He remained expressionless, and looked down at her hands.

"I'll do anything you ask for you to keep this little harmless secret between you and me…"

Her warm palm traced down from his collar bone, along the lines of his chest, rubbing against it slow and leisurely. Her mouth so near to brush against his.

Her warm breathe hissed against his lips, reminding him of his little sister. It was repulsive and disgusted him.

Haruka closed his eyes, and he looked almost painful.

However, he reopened his beautiful eyes, and smiled gently, took his Mother's fingers into a hand tenderly and gave them back to her, pressing them against her soft breasts. "Don't worry about this Mother. I will not speak a word of this."

He turned away, not looking at her. "I hope you understand where my loyalty lies."

"Of course," Mother bit her lips, and stepped back.

"Juuri is waiting for me…I must return to her."

Haruka exited the chamber, but before so, he glanced back into his parent's magnificent and elaborated chamber as his desecrated Mother still stood, her dark eyes latched onto his back.

"I pray that you realize what you are doing," he said softly, and his Mother muttered a few words.

He closed the door and the lock clicked briskly as the bolt slid into its place.

His Mother last words haunted his conscious for a few minutes afterward.

"_I know exactly what I am doing… my dear, dear son."_

"_I am just embracing it."_

* * *

"There is only two ways a pureblood could die," Mother smiled kindly as she held up two fingers as a visual guide for her blessed little son who rested on her laps.

He attempted to grasp those two fingers with his short stump of an arm, but she teased him by holding the finger just a few inches away from his swings.

Her bell-like laughter rang out clearly and she amused herself with her adorable son just a few months old.

"Okay, okay," she wiped the happy tears away, and added, "We must continue this important lesson about your family."

"There is only two pureblood could die," she repeated and shook her fore and middle fingers to emphasize, "Suicide and homicide… We could not die of long age or simple sickness because I suppose," she commented breezily, "that is part of our pact with our creator to suffer such violent and unpleasant death in return for beauty and immortality, our curse pureblood, you could say. We are a cursed kind, Haruka. I could never understand why others would look at us to enviously, so fill with awe. We are obviously so cursed and such pitiful creature, because we are not natural. No creatures on earth should have been given the hateful gifts that we received. Why do they want to be us? Why do they believe that we are happy?"

"Do you understand me little, lovely Haruka?" she snuck a swift kiss against his cute cheeks. "So our cursed bloodline, the royal and precious Kuran bloodline, each of our previous parents has died either by suicide or murder. There are no exceptions before, nor will there be after. Isn't that an enjoyable future that will befall on me and before you?"

"I wonder how you will die, Haruka. I've already chosen mine, the last luxury of our kind, the power over our life." Mother poked his nose playfully. "However, I am so glad that you are born. You are so lovely, Haruka..." She giggled and squeezed the small child fondly. "I love you so much, Haruka. There are no others before you, only ones behind you."

"You are the one I loved the most." She promised as she gazed at her small child with her crimson, blood-like pupils.

"I am glad that it was I who bore you, Haruka…"

* * *

"Haruka…"

"Yes…" Haruka stirred from his imaginings, and answered. He watched Juuri, who patted him softly on the shoulder, with a weary eye. He sat up from the armchair he slept in and a leather-backed Machiavelli's The Prince slid off his lap, falling to the floor with a light thump and fluttering of pages.

He knew why he dreamt of her and of her words, but the message she brought made chills ran down in spine.

"Dad just came back," Juuri explained in a hushed voice under the dimmed light. "He wished to speak with you."

Haruka pressed a hand before his forehead, sighed, and stood up. "Thank you Juuri for telling me."

"No problem," Juuri swirled and skipped toward the door, before poking her head back in and reminded him, "Don't forget our lesson together."

"I won't," he promised. "Is Father in his study?"

"Always."

He chuckled at her humor, and fixed his appearance before leaving his chamber again.

This time, the Adam's fruit grew redder in the darkness, and the Red Dragon's sinister eyes become brighter. The color was vividly alive; he traced the invisible line that ran through the murals.

He knocked on the door, and waited.

"Come in," Father responded from inside.

He opened the door, and shut it behind him.

A familiar scent greeted him, grabbing and twisted its vine around him, pulling him toward them as if they were saying they missed him greatly. His garnet pupils followed the source of the light until he reached the mahogany desk in the middle.

"Good evening, Father," Haruka said politely, stayed in front of his Father's desk, unmoving until Father's command.

Father propped open a vanilla folder, and started, "I received the report that one of our kind had attacked a family, killing all, leaving no survivor, except one. Apparently, she had bitten one of its children, a girl of fifteen. She is infected. The Senate asked for our family to take care of it, because the pureblood is rather associated with our affairs. Since they so respectfully requested of our assistance, I want you, Haruka to go and learn of the situation. Handle it any ways you see fit."

He closed the folder and handed it to Haruka.

"I see," Haruka leafed through it swiftly. "I shall leave then."

"Do you need the carriage?" Father's tone was mocking and sarcastic.

Haruka shook his head and smiled coldly. "I'll walk."

"Please tell Juuri that I will rain check on our session."

He was a few miles away from the town as he stopped and gazed up into the black and cloudy sky. No stars could be spotted tonight.

Sometime when he was traveling, flakes of snow began to drift down slowly upon the black forest of littered the country side.

He reached out for one and it melted as it touched its palm.

He breathed white wisps as he buried his face into the scarf.

Haruka could smell the strong stench of decaying blood even from this distance.

His beastly urges pulsed inside his throat and he felt nauseated by it.

His wind-like speed eased into a swift walk as he approached the house. The taste of blood became thicker and thicker in the air, and his vision reddened as vision of the events began to take form in his mind.

Haruka swallowed and ducked into the small cozy cabinet now guarded by various noble vampires that he recognized from assorted affairs.

"Good evening, Windshire," Haruka inquired a brunette noble he had familiarized himself with. "What good tidings brought you?"

"Master Kuran," the noble swung around, surprised. "I've heard a respectable Kuran is coming, but I didn't think of it to be you."

Haruka shrugged, and pulled the scarf down to speak with more clarity, "Father asked of me. Please, share the information about this incident."

"We estimated the time of attack is about one hour before its discovery, which is around eight o'clock at night. The family must be eating dinner. When we arrived, the food was still warm. The mother answered the door and she was also the first victim," Windshire surveyed around the scene, and pointed to the dribble of dried blood that exploded in mid doorway as if a can of red paint had tipped over, "She must have died immediately upon impact with the floor. The damage on her body was internal bruising and heavy bleeding on her abdomen near the kidney area about three to four inches in diameter and some web bruising on her shoulders, head and back all about third-fourth of an inch to one-fourth of an inch. Her skull was cracked at an about two inches in lacerations, and one inch deep. No bite mark was found upon her. We have taken her body and the rest to the coroner for an official examination." He strolled around the area of death, and walked toward another room, still speaking in an apathetic monotone. "Then the Father must have heard the scream and came out to investigate. He only arrived so far in the doorway of the dinner, before our pureblood, broke his neck, at C-1 and C-2 on the cervical vertebrae, and bit viciously, tearing the platysma and sternocleidomastoid completely clean of each other," Windshire gestured the a pool of dried crimson liquid before the threshold, where it appeared to have sprayed out and far, and they started into the blood-splattered dinner, where the spaghetti still lingered in its plates for its owners to finish, " After our pureblood sucked the father. He went on to the children, two of them, a boy of seven and a girl of fifteen. He arrived upon the girl first. Maybe he was unsatisfied, but the girl fainted upon blood loss of .66 quart. The Pureblood advanced toward the boy. He decapitated the boy first. The head landed against the wall," Windshire motioned at the large drops of redness and the mess it made on the pale wall before finally fell with a dull thump on the floor where another pool of blood was formed. "The laceration was three and three-fourth of an inch in diameter and just as deep. The pureblood proceeded on to fulfill its lust on the stump of the neck. We might be able to trace a set of bit marks from those for identification, but I doubt it, the muscles and the arteries were mangled and many issues uprooted. We had difficulty with even separating the flesh from the bones and arteries."

Windshire paused and swallowed hungrily, "He dropped the boy's corpse about three feet from the window, and escaped through that portal. The whole attack estimated at thirty minutes to forty minutes, maybe even twenty."

Haruka scrutinized the dinner calmly, scanning every section of the room methodically, where a few hours ago a normal family feasted on its lovely snug table and straight backed chairs.

"I see. Is the Hunter Society aware of this?" Haruka demanded softly, still pondering deeply.

"They might about receive the news half an hour ago, but we are here before them. Do you wish for me to manage them?" Windshire reported and watched Haruka expectantly.

"No, I will deal with them, but pass down the word that I forbid anyone to mention that it was a pureblood who committed this deed. Make sure everyone here testify it as a rogue Level E."

"Of course," Windshire nodded, and muttered into his attendance. "We must protect the pureblood. Is there anything else, Master Kuran?"

"After the examination, send the record only to me, and destroy the bodies as soon as possible. Make no extra copies. The records of this family's existence must be also taken care of," Haruka continued with an unreadable expression. "Burn this house. So no evidence could be trace. Your team already cleaned this house right?"

"Yes, Master Kuran," Windshire looked impersonally about this matter as ice with his dark hair and crystal blue pupils.

"Take me to the girl," commanded Haruka. She was the objective of his appearance in this god forsaken place. He needed to handle her, because she had been inflected with their vampirism. He needed to assess her as the procedures demanded.

He was to exterminate her before she transform into a Level E, like a worm into a thick cocoon, to leach his black poison into her before her wings could stretch and embellish with satanic marks.

That was why he came, why the Senate asked for his presence, and why Father send him. No one else was allowed to execute her until a pureblood had evaluated her. It was the rule that all must abide by.

Winshire nodded, and stated, "This way Master Kuran. We kept her in her parent's chamber, the only room with a lock. I must warn you. She is quite damaged mentally and physically by the attack. We were forced to induce sleep upon her to stop her from screaming and skirmishing so we could treat her wound. She was bleeding quite heavily. She might have awoken by now. I didn't stress the brain too much."

"Of course," Haruka muttered and touched his lips contemplatively. His pupils obfuscated until nothing was seen except orbs of liquefied darkness. "Lead me to her."

Windshire halted in front of a wooden door, and slipped out a silver key from his pocket.

The door unbolted with a simple click, and Haruka stepped into a room with a perfectly indifferent face.

In the dim gloominess of the chamber, he saw her, shrink into a pathetic corner of the room. She curled into a small, tight ball, trying to stuff herself into some nook to become invisible.

He almost laughed at her stupidity, but he restrained himself. He must distinguish himself from the darkness that oozed out of his heart like fatal toxic.

Haruka arrived before her, and watched her little frail shoulder quivering profusely like dying leaves in the wind. She had long dark hair that tumbled all over the place as if she were a madwoman. He touched it and she jumped back. For the first time, he saw her large, brown pupils overwhelmed with excruciating fear and dilated into a small circle in mid pupil. Her face was crusted in dried blood and ugly purple bruised that flowered healthily on her cheekbones and visage.

She let out an inhuman shriek, and swung her sharp, little claws at him, but those were to him, like kitten's harmless teasing.

He marked a flash of white upon her neck as she attempted to keep him away.

She kept screaming, until her voice was hoarse and reduced into a whimper.

Haruka caught her hands and summoning a tiny portion of a calming draught. He inserted the energy into her.

The pitiful whimper diminished, and replaced with short panting.

The small creature began to sob tearfully, not those lugubrious loud cries, but silence mournful tears. The crystal tears ran over the crusted blood and dripped down her thin chin into little black roses on the floor.

One, two, three… rose blossomed on the wooden floor.

Haruka lowered his eyes as pity and sorrow dripped into his hardened heart as her tears flowed freely, but she never wailed obnoxiously.

She stayed in the same position and cried silently, sometimes gasping for breathes, breaking slowly into pieces all over the floor.

"What is your name?" he asked lightly. "Tell me please. What is your name?"

He waited for her, for the poor creature to gather the remainder of herself.

"I… Ilsa…" she mumbled inaudibly as she no longer had the strength for anymore words.

"Would you like a new life?" Haruka inquired gently and softly. "I would give you a new life if you wish. You will not remember any of this. I will promise you happiness."

"Would you accept my offer?"

Then he waited for her again.

She churned out the answer gradually, "I… I can't die… I can't…I…"

"Very well then," Haruka closed his eyes and placed his forefinger on her forehead, cleared of any strands of hair or blood, and the piece of skin where he touched grew warm.

He was inside her head. He was inside her, stretching her, examining her. He was everywhere, and she couldn't hide from him. She was exposed from inside out. She was pink and naked He could see everything. He was darkness, seeping into her bones and her flesh. He was her.

He discovered the library where she accumulated her precious memories. He took out a strand of moving images, and sealed them with an elegant tap of his finger, forbidding anyone to gain access into this vicinity of her lobe.

He could not "erase" memories, because things that happened cannot be forgotten. It was the nature's rule. Its remains could be destroyed and hidden away, but one could never rewind and untangle events.

But Haruka could fasten them with a heavy bolt and adorn them with a fancy knot, and he could make sure she could never be able to open that set of images again, at least, not without some inference.

The girl fell into a deep dreamless sleep in his arms during his intricate operation. Her weak conscious unable to withstood such extensive attack.

Haruka picked her up and carried her outside as if she were a light doll.

He murmured to Windshire's dubious face as he passed by the acquainted noble. "There have been a change of plans."

The he left and disappeared into the snowy hills, still carrying the girl in his arms.

Thank you for reading


	5. The Oedipus Mistake

A/N: I am sorry for the lack of update. I just had a couple of rough months of traveling all over and being too lazy to upload anything.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own VK

**Warning:** Incest, amongst other things...

Delicated to my friends at the KFC wink you know who you are

* * *

"And he cried mightily with a strong voice, saying, Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen, and is become the habitation of devils, and the hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of every unclean and hateful bird."

-**Revelation 18:2**

* * *

**Chapter four- The Oedipus Mistake**

Haruka placed the girl down in his chamber soundlessly. The four-poster bed lowered under their added weight as she rested in a silent slumber, a limited death, bathed in faded saintly light, highlighting the warm brown of her dark locks, curling into weak and dirty ringlets. The blue spray of the moon drew sharp shadows onto her mangled, bloody face, he could barely feel a soft, unharmed skin, but those will heal soon as the immortal poison which infected her began to crave her human flesh…

He sat there quietly in the darkness, combing the girl's dark hair with his fingers distractedly.

Perhaps he acted too rashly without deep consideration. She was an ex-human, an unstable time bomb that might attract unwanted interest and danger to this household.

Haruka exhaled wearily, running a hand over his brows, and decided that he should report to his Father rather than sitting around in his room idly. No doubt Father was already informed of the verdict from various witnesses at the village. He required something gimmicky and persuasive to permit the girl to rest under his unripe wings unscathed.

He slipped off his black long coat, and its black heavy material fluttered over the girl, concealing her, blending her with the dark redness of his sheets, and warming her chilly hands and frozen fingers that grew pale blue under the scrutiny of the wolf-toothed moon.

Haruka watched her unmoving face for a brief moment, then made up his mind. Haruka stood up and departed from the room with swift, wind-like footsteps, understanding that he had a grim encounter to prevail, not win. He could never win against his Father, but Haruka could negotiate and convince with a silver tongue.

Haruka lifted his hand tentatively to tap, but his Father had already perceived his faint presence lingering in the night air, and spoke in a clipped tone. "Come in, Haruka."

"Good morning, Father," Haruka smiled respectfully.

"Sit down," Father dismissed his greeting with an impatient wave, and set away some documents he was reading over to the side.  
Haruka obeyed meekly with no more words. He inspected his Father's inexpressive features with a pretext of slight interest at the folders on the table.

"I've heard what you've done with the case. It is reasonable, but not as satisfactory as I could like it to be. How are you going to report to the Senate and that irksome Hunter Society? They've contacted me about your decisions. I would have rather not to be bothered by this after I've given the task to you."

"I am planning to visit them today, personally, and I will speak to them. I just came by to drop something off. I also need to make a trip by one of our good neighbor's place," Haruka answered simply and smiled warmly. "I hope you don't mind."

"She had been rather bloodthirsty lately, destroying humans left and right," Father chuckled lightheartedly as if were some mildly amusing golf jokes made at the dinner table. "It made matters rather difficult for us, so yes, she must be warned of her action… what a careless, wicked girl." Father spoke about her with fondness as if he deeply approved of her actions.

"However," Father paused, observing Haruka from underneath his lowered lids through the layered lashes, "This is not why I wish to speak to you about, dear Haruka. What have you brought into my house?"

"I brought… a girl to amuse Juuri," Haruka replied calmly, his eyes flickered down to see his hands, those slender, tainted fingers, but when they returned, his red pupils blazed with firm determination. "Juuri needs to interact with kids closer to her age instead of older men and women that we've hired to educate her. Juuri has no contact with vampires her age. The girl will serve as a medium and a control for Juuri's development into a well-rounded vampire. We don't want another mad pureblood on our hands, don't we? The Hiou clan is already quite enough."

"That could be arranged easily with a young Noble instead of an ex-human," Father defeated the notion effortlessly with another careless and irritated swing of his hand. "You understand how unsound and lowly ex-humans are, Haruka. I hope your softness did not act in part of this."

"But a Noble will worth much more trouble, and they are with ulterior motive. I have erased the girl's memories. She is susceptible to molding into what we desire. She will not bring harms to us, unless someone is to interfere. Otherwise, she will pledge complete faith to the Kuran," Haruka defended his position soundly, leaning forward heatedly. "She will not be a danger… or is Father suggesting that Kuran can't even handle a mere ex-human?"

Father tightened his lips, unpleased, yet unhappily agreed. "Fine. Do whatever you wish, Haruka. Just heed my warnings. I shall be lenient this time only, but Haruka, do not let your fatal flaw control your actions again."

"Yes Father," Haruka compromised, relieved, but screened it with a light flicker of gaze. "Thank you for you leniency."

"You may leave," Father discharged Haruka shortly, reached for another gray file and propped it open on the slick desk.

"Oh, in case you haven't heard yet from another source," Father started silkily again as Haruka reached the door without looking up from his work with a golden fountain pen, marking the document, "Rido is done with his project. He looks quite forward to returning in a couple of months."

"I am pleased to hear of such joyous news," Haruka replied in a content tone, and smiled as he looked back at his Father.

"So be prepared," Father offered as Haruka closed the door behind him. "Your next assignment is near. I hope this long break had replenished you."

"I'll look forward to completing it," Haruka exited the study with a final click.

* * *

Haruka first traveled by his inner chamber, after ordering a servant to arrange the carriage for departure after his descend downstairs in a couple of minutes.

A sting of beautiful melody carried by the night breeze flooded into his sight through the empty stone corridor as the maroon drape fluttered as if it were alive with the rhythm of the music.

He recognized the frantic and violence of the elegiac violin, with its sudden dips and swerves in its notes, and marked it of qualities of Bach, a Chaconne for solo violin, he recalled its christened title. His longing fingers could almost touch the notes as it enveloped him in a peaceful calmness that he almost allowed it to submerge him under those gentle melodic waves.

Haruka jerked open his door, but closed it softly behind him. The exquisite violin faded with the final snap of the silver, old bolt, but he could still feel its life vibrating in the distance.

His red eyes hidden under a few strands of ochre hair shifted toward the still sleeping form on his bed.

She needed to rest for a little bit more, Haruka thought as he touched her forehead once and that little undetectable spot grew heated under his single gentle caress.

She should be unconscious for another day. It would produce enough time to perform his tiresome, but obligatory errands, and return to start her on initiation.

Haruka gazed at the girl's purple bruised face, where he could observe its torn bloody issues have already began mending, pulsing muscles and blue veins reaching to repair its function, and he wondered what kind of dream she experienced, but then he laughed silently at his absurd silliness, remembering that erased minds are wiped so clean and white and waned that they could not possibly create powerful and convincing illusion such as dreams.

He stroked her cheeks, tracing the injuries and lacerations lightly like a dragonfly testing over surface of calm water. His dominant hunger screamed to be fulfilled for it had been so long since he last fed…

Haruka looked up abruptly, narrowing his eyes, and asked into the darkness unblinkingly, "What is it, Mother?"

She emerged from the shrouded shadows next to the entry as if she were a part of it, and some of it latched onto the ends of her dress and melted into her slender silhouette. Her garnet eyes glittered and her flesh white as it was deathly pure. Her dress was a sonorous Phoenician purple, still scented of the great ocean where its home rested, and the dyed fabric clung onto her comfortably.

"Ah, so you did notice me," Mother replied casually with a little smile playing upon her lovely face. She did quite remind him of Juuri sometimes. Their resemblance was uncanny as it was disturbing.

"Of course I did," Haruka answered with an easy tilt of the lips, but it was rather sardonic in nature than sincere. "Now, Mother, may I be excused to settle some businesses for Father?"

Mother heaved a sorry sigh, "Ah… my little boy is growing up so fast. You act more and more like that bastard each day, but your personality is of mine. I hope you do not destroy such important part of yourself, dear Haruka… well, let us not dwell on such flat subject, tell me, how is your Father?"

"You haven't seen him yet?" Haruka arched an eyebrow dubiously. "I have expected him to acknowledge you when he returned." He walked over to his closet, pulled it open, and retrieved a new tie and clean coat from the organized hangers, compacted with various styles of clothes, both item painted in the luxurious color of darkness and morning stars.

"No, I was resting when he came in," Mother explained simply from behind him as she approached him. He could hear her weightless footsteps drifting near in the motionless air. "He left quite early from his Mistress's house. I was rather surprised."

Haruka tugged the tie into a loose knot around his collar bone, and slipped it off into the laundry basket where the maid will recover it from later. As he surveyed his appearance in the mirror, fixing his hair lazily and adjusting some article of clothing, his attention still shifted carefully to his stunning Mother, who still stood behind him, watching him with an apathetic expression, scanning him up and down with luscious red lips, curved into a arrogant smirk.

"Allow me," Mother darted between him and the mirror, slithered the tie out of his clutch swiftly, and looped it over his neck. He caught a whiff of her deep, enchanting scent.

Haruka stayed silent, and gazed down at his Mother's pale slim fingers, playing leisurely on the bow of the black tie, stripped with velvet.

She suddenly pulled him closer by the tie. He could feel the brush of her warm breath against his mouth. Her vermillion lips glistened with glossy wetness that invited one to taste its bitter ripe fruits as the apple curved its fingers to Eve. She was too close for comfort… so close that he could count the number of lashes that adored her lids, the flawlessness of her skin, the darkness of her soft locks and the wisps that framed her visage…

"The carriage is waiting for me," Haruka murmured and his breath puffed against her lips, and yanked back suddenly. Her warm fingers still lingered in the air where he had been momentarily, and fell by her side and curled into balls.

She turned away, and waved indifferently, with a smile lined with sensual blackness. "I'll see you when you get back, Haruka," she laughed with silver bells.

Haruka nodded coolly, and followed her as they departed from his chamber, going on their separate ways, she to her handsome husband and him to his wearisome affairs.

* * *

His carriage brought him to the Senate first for it detained the most significance.

He didn't wait for long, sitting in that still and gray, but heavily and rigidly decorated waiting room for his high statue granted him some privileges unheard of to others.

When Haruka was summoned in, he sat down with a pleasant appearance, the most eloquent weapon available, facing all the gray and wrinkled familiar face of the ancient stern Senate. He first summarized the unfortunate event with as much details as he had seen and given in a clinical tone. Then Haruka judiciously discussed with the Senate about the punishment to the Pureblood who committed this crime. Then the subject shifted to his peculiarly absent execution, Haruka gave the same reasoning as he did before, except this time, the old men were much more prudent with their languages and did not question his transactions anymore after he reminded them that his Father, the head of Kuran, had given consent of the girl's residency in their house, and slyly hinted that the Kurans didn't not wish for the Senate's inference in their dealings. Though they still gazed upon him with mistrust and presumptions, they allowed him to leave with what he wanted.

They had always favored Rido amongst the two Kuran brothers… Rido was more in sync with Senate's principles and methods than Haruka, who believed otherwise, and otherwise was not a very wise decision in establishing pleasant relationships.

Haruka returned to his carriage, instructed the chauffer to the Hunter Society's headquarter, and closed his eyes, resting for a while since as his horse-drawn carriage hurried on, the morning rosy sun had peeked over the horizon, spraying its dutiful glory all over the darkened land.

His inveterate instinct commanded him to fall into sleep, but his conscious firmly warned against such deed. His responsibilities were yet to be done.

Thus Haruka only closed his eyes, while his mind remained fully functioning, calculating his next move and his next words.

When the carriage stopped, Haruka lifted eyelids languidly, and stepped down into the cavern of his enemies elegantly. Haruka never liked those arrogant vampire hunters much, with their biased theories on vampire's nature and haughty self-righteousness, those cannibalistic monsters that were not quite human, nor were they vampires, children of original sin, and receivers of their parent's mistakes. They disgusted Haruka, for in his eyes, they both descended of the same red, winged beast, but for the sake for superficial peace, he tolerated interactions with them.

Those hunters were visibly less civil to him than the Senate, but they were coldly polite, nevertheless, considering that a pureblood was possibly the deadliest foe of all vampire hunters, Haruka was rather unwillingly impressed with their manner.

Haruka went on with the same procedures as he did with the Senate with the presentation of the event and the slightly altered truth of the identity of the bloodthirsty predator that night after all, he must protect the pureblood if nothing else was achieved. As much as the Senate and Hunter Society bore antagonistic hatred to each organization, they were frightfully similar in many conducts and customs, which were uncomfortable qualities that they would not admit.

Finally, Haruka was through with the official businesses. As Haruka exited the halls of the Hunter's, he felt many unfriendly eyes pierced onto him, baring well wishes of his death, and some metallic unsealing of silvery blades, but they wouldn't dare strike him. Haruka's lips raised a mocking grin as he departed from stone halls of Hunter Society into his carriage.

"Please take me to the House of Red," Haruka requested as he leaned against the comfortable leather covering, away from the annoying sun's shine, not caring whether the position would crumble his expensive suit.

So, the carriage cobbled onto the streets as the city dissolved into the country side, where metals and bricks vanished to be replaced by whitened greeneries and smooth plains coated by wintry gifts, and the woods around them became deeper and darker, growing more sinister by the meter.

Trice again, the carriage eased to a complete stop in front of black, twisted gates, and the carriage door swung open to reveal a beautiful setting sun, glimpsing over the purple and orange horizon over the snowy tops of oaks and pines. Its mystique colors flickered and its fantasy was deceiving to innocent passer-bys who were lured into this bloodied gate of hell by its unworldly, seducing charms that promised certain immortality.

A young, thin man in formal black wear appeared before him in a flash movement not of the immortal capability. "Welcome, Master Kuran. My Mistress requires the reason of your arrival."

Haruka smiled gracefully, stepping onto the ground. "I am here to discuss her recent trips into the nearby towns."

The servant nodded, retreated back into the mansion with a parting bow, but returned quickly, and beckoned Haruka to trail behind him.

"Mistress said that she will receive you," the blond servant explained at he lead Haruka into the oriental styled mannor, with its poised silk screen often splashed of darkly red or pearly white, patterned with soft pink and white blossoms and lustrous wooden panels that lined the floor and walls. The house was silent with only echoed with the footsteps of Haruka, but at the same time, it seemed to be teeming with life that watched Haruka from its dark cracks underneath.

The servant carefully slid open the crimson silk screen, decorated the fallen blooms and its pale petals stilled in mid-air, fluttering in the autumn wind.

He bowed deeply and announced quietly into the chamber of scarlet satins, billowing in the air, "Mistress, Master Kuran is here."

A lazy voice commanded silkily from behind million sheets of deep red sheer material that waved in the late afternoon breeze, "Thank you. You may leave."

The whole room was hanged with the sheer and shimmering sheets, all dangling softly in the air, sheer against sheer until the hue was darker than the darkest of crimsons as the chamber deepened. They shimmered and tinkled pleasantly when flickered against each other by the light breeze. Some rays of sunlight stroke against them, casting the room in a magnificent red overwhelming shadow that tainted everything, from the dark wooden panels on the wall, to the white silk screens.

She rested where the heaviest concentration of sheets in a multilayered and heavily embroidered kimono of thousand cranes, lying gracefully like a Siamese cat among them. Her feline eyes focused languorously his every move, through those moving sheets.

Haruka lifted one of the vermillion sheets to discover her, and smiled. "Good afternoon, Shizuka."

"What a rare guest we have here," Shizuka rested a head on the back of her white hand with her golden tresses shifting like gilded sands at her every motion. "Welcome to my chamber, dear fiancé."

"Long time no see, Shizuka," Haruka answered, sitting down in front of her. He appeared very strange and incongruous in his western and formal attire in a place so engulfed of spicy oriental frankincense and eastern myths.

"So what is the purpose of your visit?" Shizuka demanded casually, her pale pink lips loosened lightly. Her marble, sculpted fingers twirled absentmindedly with strands of her golden hair. "Don't tell me because you wanted to see your fiancée. Last time I checked the Kurans has no such time for idle and useless activities."

"No," Haruka concurred with her. "I am here strictly on business, but must we be so proper with each other. We have but the most intimate of all bonds."

Her amber eyes scrutinized his features warily. "Just tell me the purpose of your visit," she said coldly, all amiability evaporated from the atmosphere as her crimson pupils gleamed with anger, a dangerous trait for a pureblood... to express one's feelings so openly.

"I am here to warn you not to kill so bountifully. I may not cover for you for eternity to the Hunter Society for they are getting suspicious. The Senate also sends their sincerest admonition. Please, reconsider your moves when feeding. At least make it less noticeable. No one said it to me, but everyone in our society knew it was you," Haruka told her coolly.

"But I was hungry," Shizuka pursed her lips as if enduring fluids still remained on her soft tongue and between the nooks of her glistering fangs as her eyes thinned lustfully with the memories. "Those vampires and blood slaves can't satisfy me anymore."

"Then try to control it," Haruka suggested composedly. "We all have cravings, yet none of us is drawing as much superfluous attention as the heir of the Hiou clan."

Shizuka stared at Haruka's indifferent face for a moment, then chuckled softly, but dangerously. "I do not want to become you, Haruka. Such boring and unfulfilled life, you are miserable… I could feel your ugly feelings since we have but the most intimate of all bonds. I know you want to drink that beautiful and wonderful red liquid. Why hold it in? Human are ephemeral creature and there are plentiful of them. Why waste such forever food source? We are the natural predator… I don't understand why we should hold back our longings. Don't you wish to just even nibble on a soft white neck and feel their pitiful but helpless whimpering on your shoulder, with their fading struggle as fear rushed through their veins, making the feast even more scrumptious? It is lovely… and beautiful. You know you wish to do so, Haruka. Every vampire does. Why hold, Haruka? For whom, for what, why, tell me Haruka…?" Her last letters wilted in the air between them.

"…Or is your Father correct, you poor soft-hearted boy?"

Haruka parted his mouth, closed them firmly, and spoke once more. "I did not come here to debate the morality of our action. Please do not drag my family into the discussion. It is irrelevant. I came to warn you of your enemies, and to be more careful in your future ventures. I don't care who you kill, but I do not wish to clean your mess afterward."

Haruka stood up. His eyes gleamed frostily in the orange sunset and the red shadows that which twisted and hissed like a provoked snake. "I will take my leave," he spoke with a final tone.

"Farewell, Haruka," Shizuka smiled, bidding him good-bye.

The servant came forth noiselessly, and led Haruka away from the blood-covered chamber.

* * *

Haruka stumbled into his chamber, where the girl still slept peacefully.

He heaved a deep sigh, and heavy drowsiness crept over his limbs, little by little, swallowing his fingers first then spread throughout the body like an undesirable, flesh eating virus.

His vision blurred as the furniture in his room shuddered with his drunken steps.

He slumped on the bed, and kicked off his shoes hastily. Those plunged with a dull thump on the Persian carpets.

Haruka pulled impatiently on his tie until it was just a tangled mess hanging from his neck. He unbuttoned the collar and finally felt himself breathing, drinking those delightful fresh airs hungrily. He stared into the darkness gathered overhead for a moment, permitting his thoughts to settle, and his mind to organize the events clearly.

He could feel the girl's light breathing next to him, a source of caring warmth.

He turned to gaze at her unreadable features. She looked sacred and peaceful under the peeking but burnished moonlight like the night before. It was arduous to imagine that she could sunk from a young, naïve human to abject lowly creature in just a few day's time.

Haruka closed his weary eyes, and those irritating thoughts faded into the darkness.

Haruka was always a light sleeper even the faintest movement in his presence would jerk him to a full awakening.

Thus when she moaned and stirred, Haruka sat up quickly, and touched her forehead carefully as if she were a dainty little blossom with the gentlest expression, and that was the scene she had rouse to, his beautiful and concerned face.

She remembered that he processed deep crimson eyes that twinkled like the most loveing star in the cosmos, and a tender smile on his lips. His silken locks swayed in the wind as he looked down upon her.

"Good evening," he said to her softly, holding back his voice in her fragile state.

But the pleasantness and awe only lasted for a few seconds for as her sensations rushed back to her.

She curled up into a ball, crying lightly at the blazing pain that was swallowing her whole. It stabbed her face, body, and limbs, burning and eating her. She gargled pitifully, choking on the invisible fire that was consumer her whole existence.

Haruka sighed, and kissed her face calmly and taking her palm into his, his lips brushed against them, stealing those pains away.

The light sobbing subsided, and she stared at him through wide, red-rimmed eyes.

Haruka parted his lips, and started in a low and tender voice as if he were comforting a wounded animal, "You have been attacked by vampires. I found you and took you to my house, but your family is killed. You are now under my care in my chamber, and your name is Elise. Do you understand me?"

She nodded weakly, panting slightly. Strings of tears dripped down the side of her face even though she did not comprehend why those tears fell or for what she was crying for. She couldn't even recall her mother's face…

"Shh…" Haruka wiped those tears away, and tasted its bitterness in his mouth. "You, have been infected with our vampiric curse. You will turn into a vampire, and in the end, drive yourself mad for your craving for blood." He spoke those gentle but cruel words to her at her most vulnerable, but crucial instant where she could accept everything without question or doubt.

"I will call for the maid to clean you up. Is that alright with you?" He didn't wait for her answer, but stood up and rang for the maids. They came quickly, and with a whispered instruction, they swept the stunned Elise away, dragging her on her numbed soles as she stared back at him, quite unable to formulate any coherent thoughts.

Haruka blinked, running a hand over his dark hair, untangling it and restoring it to a proper fashion. His tiredness from a couple of hours ago evaporated from his clear conscious after the short nap.

He struggled over to sit in the armchair, disgusted with his cruelty to Elise. He slouched against the soft cushion on the chair wearily, gazing into the nothingness in front of him, consumed wholly by his thoughts.

"Juuri?" He smelled her scent floating in the night air nearby.

The door unfastened, and Juuri peeked into the darkness of her brother's chamber precariously.

"Haruka?" her mellifluous voice asked as she looked around the room curiously, blinking her warm red eyes.

Haruka beckoned her with inviting arms, still on the chair, and when she was close enough, he embraced his little sister tightly.

"Ah?" Juuri was flabbergasted by the unexpected shower of dear affection that was uncommon in this house ever by her gentlest brother. "Haruka…are you right?"

Haruka squeezed his eyes shut, trying to expel those evil demons, and his head fell upon her frail shoulder.

"I'm fine," he murmured loosely, burying his face on her warm and childish body as if she were the elder one, drowning in her soft, familiar fragrance that reminded him of floating in a wide, gentle ocean, where he gazed up dreamily into the deep, blue sky, and found a kind of forever tranquility.

"I am just a bit tired…"

They stayed in such pose for a while.

Haruka took a deep breath, gathered himself up, and loosened his grip on Juuri.

She stared at him with puzzled pupils, lips slightly parted, bewildered by a flash of fragility she had discovered in her kind older brother.

"Did I surprise you?" Haruka inquired perceptively. "I'm sorry. It had just been a very long day for me. Are you here for tutoring? I am sorry for the rain check yesterday. Go to the library and wait for me. I will go freshen up, and join you in moments, okay?"

Juuri nodded, still staring oddly at Haruka, twisted around with a fluttering seam of her black dress and flying of loose curls, intertwined with white ribbons, and she hurried off without another glance.

He fell back against the chair until her footsteps weakened into the end of the hall, and asked the air evenly. "Mother, how long would you care to spy on us?"

The door parted, and Mother's beautiful face appeared along its crack. Haruka could sniff her spicy perfume, stretching out to him like satanic claws, and it strangely reminded him of Juuri's, those eerie and frightful parallels between the Mother and daughter became more prominent as Juuri blossomed into a paler, but more delicate bloom in recent years. "I thought you are going to ignore me."

"I am not going to ignore you," Haruka corrected patiently, leaned against the back of his hand lazily with his elbow against the arm of the chair. "You are my Mother after all."

"Am I just your Mother to you, Haruka?" She touched his throat gently, outlining and sliding over the intricate, pale structure, its sorrowed, cursed lines.

"Mother," Haruka replied calmly as her pointed manicured nails caressed his Adam's apple, dancing over it as if they were a ballerina's delicate legs over the opera stage. "I am not just another one of your puppets."

She laughed like tinkling silver bells among willows and wind at his words. "Of course you are not. You are my son. You are my most dearest. You are the first, and those lovers dim in comparison to you."

"The analogy seems rather improper," Haruka remarked passively. His eyes stared uncertainly into the space belong his Mother, refusing to look at her as a sigh of his quiet revolt against her.

"But it is befitting in my opinion," Mother countered, she found his cute rebellion quite amusing. Her sharp fingers took a down sweeping jab down toward his collar bone. The soft skin between reddened at the impact and blood seeped through the whiteness in small vermillion droplets like petals scattered against the pure snow.

The room was immediately plagued with the seductive odor as its tentacle twisted around the furniture and legs of objects.

Mother leaned forward and her pink tongue licked the wound lustfully and slowly, savoring every single taste. When the small sips no longer could satisfy her wolf-like hunger, her mouth began to suck eagerly on the wound, and her fangs bit viciously into Haruka's neck, tearing the tear for more desperate needs, and lapping up its blood anxiously.

Haruka relaxed and sunk into the armchair as his Mother climbed onto him for a more easily accessible position, her long legs kneeing over his as if she were the master, and he were merely her slave, and her fingers grasped his face forcefully like he were some stolen pearl, objects that were brought for a great price, abandoning nail bruises that repair almost immediately.

His face was perfectly blank as he continued to stare into the space.

Mother's blood thirst was finally quenched. She looked at Haruka, his rich, delicious blood dripped down her lips and chin. She licked it off her lips slowly and leisurely; making sure every taste wasn't wasted.

She smiled with her fangs still stained with dribbles of crimson, holding his face in her hands, now with more tenderness within her grasp.

She closed up upon him until he could only see her, her beauty and her grand grandeur. She wanted him to see, to take in her form fully, to see her do this disgusting thing so he could no longer deny this and deny her existence to him. She pressed her soft and cold lips against his.

She forced his lips apart as her tongue swept over his straight teeth.

Haruka could savor his opulent, luscious liquid pushed and passed between their wet tangled tongues, and her sweet warmth injected roughly into him through the oral orifice until it become hotter and hotter, and Haruka's chilly body longed for that tepid touch, and embraced her even more tightly against him and kiss her back with even more aggression to save that touch within him.

He broke off the kiss first, panting raggedly, and gazed at his Mother with weak eyes. "Juuri is waiting for me… I need to go," he explained with uneven breathes.

His Mother grinned wickedly, pried his fingers off her. She jumped off him without a single sign of concern. She brushed lint off her dress and unwrinkled the hem where it crumpled against him.

"I will see you later," she chimed and sashayed out, satisfied and content.

Haruka touched where their lips caressed each other, his fingers trembled lightly.

With an enormous effort, Haruka stood up to join his sister in the library.

* * *

Thank you for reading, and a review would be nice but not necessary.

Random Ramble: I've been struggling with writing this fic. Mainly because it is my first rather complicated and multi-chapter fic. I've gotten too used to writing short one-shots, so I thought my writing isnt as good as I like it to be and the flow of events are rather choppy, while my characterization is going down the drain. sigh I guess I am just not happy with it... long stories are just so much harder to write than one-shots. ramble ramble

But I am planning to finish this story... so no worries.


	6. The Greek Tragedies

**Disclaimer:** I don't own neither Vk nor King James' Bible

**Warnings:** INCEST, non-graphic sex, dark themes and violence

Credits to Obin and my new beta Chrystelle who didn't laugh when I asked her to read my fanfiction.

**Delicated to everyone who is reading and supporting this piece of writing**

* * *

"And I beheld another beast coming up out of the earth; and he had two horns like a lamb, and he spake as a dragon."

Revelation 13:11

* * *

**Chapter 5: The Greek Tragedies**

The night breeze fumed the chamber with rose-adored air and the frozen leaves swayed from its dwelling amongst the dark silhouettes, and it brought a dry, still silence, interrupted only by crumpling of papers that tumbled from Haruka's fingers.

He sprawled casually on his back on the white canapé, tastefully splattered with pale but creamier embroideries of Fleur de Lis, lifting his arm above his head, glancing inattentively through the documents, which detailed the outline of his newest task, even farther away than the last assignment three years ago, beyond the running hills and the white, misty mountains peaks, dived deep into the hot, dry sands of the South, and the objective heightened in brutality. Haruka could taste his Father's sadistic black humor from between these sickening commands.

Haruka ran a hand through his dark lengthy bangs, swept uneven by the wind, and loosened his fingers as the paper fluttered away in the direction of the cool current, a noiselessly but powerfully entity struggling between the nooks of his fingers, the white papers rolling pitifully across the dark Persian carpet as they were nothing, but velvety, innocent handkerchiefs.

"If I continue to ignore you, are you never going to come in, Elise?" Haruka said clearly, turning to the door as his glossy locks shimmered like precious obsidian, extracted from fire's core, under the barest fraction of diffused lamplight.

The luxurious mahogany door inched open fearfully and Elise's embarrassed face materialized, hiding underneath amass of long chocolate hairs, so only her blushing cheeks were visible.

Haruka was satisfied to find her well cleaned, and bruise marks fading into sickly green tints. She wasn't particularly attractive in the lofty standard reserved for vampires and her flawed skin was defeated severely beside his beautiful, superficially perfect sister, but Haruka believed she beheld a different kind of loveliness of which existed only to the grasps of human, of those who touched the gentle, tempting hand of immortality through their fortunate tangible demise, for only through limits could one see and savor the gold of infinity. It was the gift of the gods to their beloved worldly children that had forever eluded the creatures of the night. She was soft like the strong branches of weeping willows, and she was a daisy that sprouted under the warmth of the bright sun, through hard earth and salted brown ugliness.

He sat up, yet still leaned lazily against the silk cushions of the canapé.

"Come here," he smiled at Elise, holding up a hand to invite which she accepted timidly.

He touched her head in a brotherly manner, and asked kindly, "How are you? Do you find everything satisfactory?"

Elise nodded shyly, "Thank you for taking me in Master Haruka. I am evermore grateful for your kindness." She bowed a deep angle, relying on her locks to conceal her expression.

Haruka blinked, "Master… Haruka? I see… they've explained our ways to you. Good, good," he remarked absent-mindedly. Haruka rubbed his forehead wearily, counting how much time had escaped from him as he was occupied with finishing his advance courses and concluding the bloody mess that his beloved fiancée, Shizuka, created for him.

"Yes," Elise still stared at Haruka's face slightly dazed by his inhuman presence, like a divine deity dawning on the throne of Olympus, her face paled at the realization of her bold rudeness. "They told me that you saved me. I… I…"

Haruka smiled resignedly. "Don't worry about it. It is just a small thing to do on my part for you. I see you are healing already, do those wounds still pain you?"

She shook her head quickly, in a behavior that he almost chuckled at for it was so innocently childish that she appeared to be of a lower age than his own sister, yet by her human years converting vampire years, she was elder to the youthful Juuri.

"It was very kind of you to allow my survival and appease my pain to an ex-human and Level-D such as me… I…" she started, stumbling over her sentences, but he pressed a single forefinger against her frantically parted lips.

"I didn't bring you back for you to degrade yourself, to box yourself in the confinement of our social class. I want you to live in such limited time you held within your hands, do you understand me, Elise?" Haruka spoke softly in a low voice as if he were reciting beautiful lines of Shakespearean sonnets. "This is not I promised you."

Haruka pulled back his finger and watched Elise calmly through veiled eyes. "Anyways," Haruka shifted his even gaze away from Elise, latching it on a piece of fallen paper, "It has been couple of weeks since your arrival. The transformation should have started. Have the blood craves arrived yet?"

Elise bit her lips reluctantly, lifted her upper lips, unable to meet Haruka's unfathomable maroon pupils. Haruka saw that her molars were already elongated beyond what was described as humanly possible, but its glistening white blades still considered a bit dull and petite for a proper vampire. Haruka remarked silently that her transformation was rather hasty in comparison to the data he researched upon, which rendered Haruka fairly puzzled. However Haruka presumed quickly that it must pertaining to her young age, rapid growth spurt, and the fatal disadvantage of the corporeal body that surrendered quickly to the violent and bloodthirsty vampiric virus.

Haruka rummaged the drawer on the side of the canapé with one hand, and slipped out a crystal perfume bottle, concentrated with a diluted pink solution, screwed in with a clear knob.

"Drink this when you feel powerful craving, though I suggest suppressing as much of those as possible, so immunity toward substituted blood will remain weak. This," Haruka shook the clear glass object, emphasizing its importance, "contains a form of dissolved animal blood, mostly composed of pure water, and blood in its most insipid title. It will stifle the blood-thirst temporarily for a being such as you, but once your body becomes accustomed to it and when it could not longer restrain that monstrous desire, revisit the Butler for a more condensed colored bottle. I will leave instructions for him. However, this treatment does not function as a cure for our scientists have not discovered a technique to alleviate vampirism. It simply extends and trains the body to become adjusted to blood. Your craving will intensify until no artificial successors could replace the yearning for which only fresh human blood will suffice. This method had been proven to be successful in elongating the process to Level E." Haruka placed the small bottle in Elise's hand gently, his eyes overflowed with something she labeled as sympathy.

"Always carry this with you."

"Thank you," Elise's watery eyes stared back at Haruka as she squeezed the bottle in her hand, and sighed.

Haruka stood up and beckoned her to follow his swift steps into the dim hall.

"You new job in the Kuran household is to become my sister, Juuri's friend," he smiled at her confused expression that flickered over her face momentarily, "Yes, it is that simple, just be her friend and play with her. Is that fine?"

"Yes, of course," Elise hurried behind Haruka through halls hung with marble statues of idols of the Greek … Adonises, Poseidons, and Athenas…. stylishly hung classical and renaissance paintings depicting of fantastic wonders of myths, laced with pure gold against the dark mahogany furnishing of the forebodingly handsome mansion.

Haruka arrived upon a shut chamber, where faint and fair tune of violin skimmed over the clear surface to contact him.

Haruka tapped his knuckle against the door once and waited.

The feeble, flooding melody stopped briefly as its master lowered her bow politely to greet her visitors, and the door swung over with an old wrinkling face staring with deeply twisted brows and narrowed eyes in an irritated manner at who interrupted the musical lesson.

However the impatient purse of lips wheezed, frightened, at the sight of the good-natured Haruka, who nodded at the old woman as he past her into a light, flowery chamber, bejeweled with twisted vines of pallid roses and delicate lilies, which blossomed vividly on the walls, each individual petals carefully brushed on by the ivory fingers of artists. The room was accompanied with a large pale canopy bed and several others of the common root, draped in heavy velvety materials, carved of cedar wood, which emitted a soft exotic scent.

"Haruka," Juuri stared at him, surprised by his rendezvous, but then dimmed at certain realization. Her slender fingers trailed over the strings of the dark arches of the violin, before placing it down at the foot of its heavy case.

She walked up to him gracefully, already in her petite but elegant steps which echoed the royalties of olden days. Haruka could foresee the great and terrible beauty she shall mold into one day.

Her feline eyes scrutinized Haruka curiously, but carefully. He did not see her often when she was occupied. Those dark sultry pupils lingered for a brief second on the young girl's blank face behind him, however her eyes flickered away quickly like a flirty flight of butterfly, choosing to ignore the un-introduce guest unless Haruka acknowledge the girl, and hid her calculating thoughts behind a thick layer of sooty lashes as she sat down on a chaise longue gracefully as a Master entertaining her unsolicited visitors.

"Pardon me for interrupting your lesson," Haruka excused himself courteously.

Juuri shook her head. Her dark tresses were pinned up into a simple do on the back of her cranium with few loose curls about her soft face. When she moved, those cute ringlets followed and flowed about as if they were caressed by the wind.

"My professor is just about leaving," Juuri replied calmly, eyeing the old woman, who nodded hastily to her words and gathered up her belongings— couple of sheets of music, heavy books, and her own violin— before rushing to the door, brushing into Elise, and the door pushed shut with a quick bang.

Juuri watched the woman exited her chamber, and demanded, "What are you doing here, Haruka? Aren't you quite busy as it is your depart is quite soon?"

"I am," Haruka agreed with a tip of a nod. "This is part of my business."

Juuri leaned forward, faking interest. Her fingers tangled under her chin, but her eyes mocked a blandness, "That is unusual. What is it you ask of me?"

"This is Elise," Haruka tilted the girl forward with a forceful hand. "She is a girl I took home couple of weeks ago. I am sure you have heard of this."

Juuri nodded, scrutinizing the girl precociously. "Yes, dad spoke of it. What of her?"

"She will be an au pair to you. You will treat her not as a servant, but as an equal. Please don't disappoint me, Juuri," Haruka smiled agreeably as if he were merely complimenting on the silver framed paintings of playful nymphs and frail fairies that adored her walls.

Juuri glared at Haruka, irritated, and tightened her lips. "I don't need someone like her."

"Father agreed to it. Father's words are not to be crossed," Haruka rebuked stridently.

"Dad only agreed because he wanted to see a spectacle!" Juuri exclaimed furiously. Her fingers balled into a tight fist. "You know what kind of man Dad is, Haruka. Don't give me that excuse."

"Then don't make a spectacle of yourself," Haruka coolly suggested. It was the first time he used such cold language with Juuri, who was adapted comfortably to his gentle and low intonation.

Juuri's arched brows furrowed, hurt and angered by Haruka, betraying a family for a measly stranger. Their similar eyes collided, hers ablaze with prominent resentment and indignity, and his chilled with indifference until Juuri admitted defeat, she sighed wearily. "Fine, I will take her in."

Haruka coolness dissolved at once, and a familiar sweetness that he wrapped around her all her life returned instantly.

"Good girl," Haruka came forward and pressed a rewarding kiss against her forehead with Juuri fought against by turning her face away, so that his lips touched her temple instead of its intended destination.

"Please don't be angry with me," Haruka pleaded with her, trying to soothe her fury. "Elise is a nice girl. You two will get along."

Juuri softened visibly and she cursed silently. Her brother's personality was rubbing off her, a natural phenomenon she warned herself bitterly against since listening to Rido and Dad's comments have influenced her character, thus she viewed her brother's kindness as a bale of his failure in gaining favor with the Senate; she paradoxically disapproved of it as much as she adored him for it.

"I just," she stopped and began weakly, a sound she despised but couldn't help employ to obtain her brother's full attention and regret, "I don't like being forced to accept gifts that of which I do not want…" She trailed off in the end.

"I'm sorry," Haruka apologized, "I just didn't know any other way to save her. Thank you, Juuri. I am indebt to you."

Juuri shrugged and finally looked directly at the awkward Elise, whose presence was largely ignored by both parties until now.

Elise met her searching gaze, and lowered her eyes, flushing, and a feeling of depression came at the realization the depth of Juuri's overwhelming splendor and she was nothing in comparison; jealousy had planted its seeds within her white, pure soul.

"Be confident," a disembodied voice which she immediately identified as Haruka's whispered in her ear.

Elise inhaled deeply and stared straight into Juuri's surly seductive pupils. She smiled brightly at the younger girl, and said loudly, "Good evening, my name is Elise. Shall we be friends?" She held out her hands, infectious with her enthusiastic friendliness.

Juuri stared strangely and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her intention, but Haruka placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "She meant her words."

Juuri stood up and shook the other girl's hand with less fervor. Juuri smiled and replied in a less enthusiastic tone, but nevertheless made the other girl lightened up, "Nice to meet you. I am Juuri Kuran, Haruka's sister."

The invisible webs spun around them, began to tangle, and thickened until no one could breathe any longer.

Rido's return to the mansion crept nearer as early winter descended into a harsher, bitter season; it washed over the dead fallen leaves with fragile flakes of crystal snow, leaving the world encrusted in a fake purity.

Haruka took walks outside when the sky were coated with thick blankets of grey clouds. Dressed in a light brown overcoat, his shoes made soft nauseating taps against the gray, wet snow, mixed with dead leaves, mangled branches.

Haruka inhaled those cold airs and they mingled soothingly with his organs.

Sometime, Elise and Juuri would join him on those leisure walks around the white forest that protected their mansion. Elise and Juuri's relationship advanced quicker and better than he had vaguely predicted, for which he was grateful of, while being utterly amazed at the fickle characteristics of girls' friendships.

They were at ease with each other for Elise didn't belong to any fraction of noble and harbored no internal purpose. Juuri was capable to secede with some walls raised against others. They shared secret giggle behind his back and when he demanded the source of their obvious amusement, they returned with more hysterical laughter that bought a light smile to his gloom.

Juuri behaved more to her age, with a charming kind of immaturity which should be more of her nature and its faint appearance relieved Haruka. She was much lovelier when she could blossom into a more flamboyant bloom than the careful crystal petals she was sprouting into.

Elise grew into a pale outline of her former self, at least approaching to what he had comprehend of her in those hidden records that Windshire had given him, assuring Haruka that he had seen to the destruction of extra copies. Instead of a timid and frightened girl that he comforted earlier, Elise was happier and louder, fluttering her butterfly wings that embellished of bright and divine colors which overshadowed the darker streaks, more like a human than a bloodthirsty monster. Haruka found himself quite fond of Elise, and her cheerfulness was rather contagious to his recently murky moods.

"Are you happy?" he asked of her once on those peaceful little walks as Juuri ran a few steps ahead to retrieve a wind-stolen scarf.

She replied with a bright smile before chasing after her friend.

Haruka stared after her, astonished by the sudden sparkle of humane beauty like dilapidated box, hidden with secret compartments of fantastic, rich treasures.

It was on one of those ending days that Haruka discovered a little secret of Elise.

Haruka strolled through the dim, yellow hall to greet Father on settling some matters before he departed.

At first he didn't hear the muted cries that echoed silently, but as he approached his Father's study, those painful moans became perceptible to his acute hearings to which he wrinkled his brow and decided to investigate the reason, may it be a homesick maid or others equally pathetic.

The sad sounds led Haruka to a small boom closet along some forgotten hallway, a tiny capillary of the complex internal system, dusted with cobwebs and repulsive creatures of many legs.

Haruka turned the silver doorknob as he noted a horrified gasp and forced silence.

"What's going on Elise?" Haruka asked into the small, musty room as he spotted a small form in a simple black dress crawled against a corner, so reminiscent of their first meeting.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" she whimpered tearfully, hugging herself and clawing her shoulders as if she were suppressing some dreadful spirit inside her.

Haruka smelled sweet, alluring blood as he took a deep, desiring whiff of it.

Another groan escaped her purple lips. Cold sweat laced her face as her dark, messy threads stuck to her face and it soaked her top as it clung to her small curves. Her small body trembled profusely with the attacks as if she were dipped into a bathtub of iced water.

"Why didn't you drink the formula I gave you?" Haruka demanded at once bending on one knee to observe Elise's pale and drenched features.

Elise only shook her head frantically as her frail body urged at another attack of thirst as she panted heavily and her nails dug deeper into her skin as a desperate hope to alleviate the pain. It was horrifying how rapidly she degenerated from a stubborn, dainty daisy into a famished, wild wolf, with sticky spit drooling from its ajar jaw.

"Tell me," Haruka tilted her face gracefully toward him with a forefinger placed under her chin.

"Please."

She refused him, shaking her head quickly, as the excruciating ache gripped her throat as she sobbing pathetically and brokenly into her hands.

Haruka sighed, and wrapped him arms around her slender, quivering torso, trying to calm her and soothe her agitated state, patting her back rhythmically. "Shh… it will pass… It will pass…" he comforted her quietly in his rich, low voice.

Her head reeled on his shoulder; her hot breaths tickled his neck. Her molars had found the tender area around his throat. Haruka closed his eyes and made no sounds when she stretched open her mouth; her fangs glimmered keenly in the darkness, licking his skin desperately with her wet, soft tongue. Her pale fingers clutched desperately onto his forearms so forcefully that it drew blood through the fabric.

For a moment, Haruka felt those sharp, little, white knives danced on his skin, carving little holes, then they sunk severely into that plain of untainted pallor. Crimson blood flooded from the puncture like superfluous wells.

She sucked on hungrily onto his blood for the craving and the fulfillment had erased her moral logics completely altering her into a raw brute that guided only by carnal desires.

Haruka waited patiently until the sucking had subsided, his face betrayed no emotion, and she started crying softly into his shoulder. Her tears leaked into his shirt and he could feel its warmness dripping on his detached skin.

"Why did you do that?" she croaked as blood dribbled down her chin. "Why?"

Haruka wiped the remaining off and licked his finger clean carelessly. "Why don't you drink the formula?" he countered calmly. His distorted flesh mended itself almost instantaneously as his fingers skimmed over his Adam's apple and the region about, smooth skin washed over the disrupted surface as garbled muscles twisted itself into one.

"You don't understand," she fell back against the wall as she stared into his eyes dejectedly, so dark and empty were her pupils as if she had given up all hopes. "I don't want to die. If I allow this monster to take over me, I will die sooner. I am so scared. I am only fifteen. I am too young. I want to experience things. I want to fall in love, to have children. I don't want to die." she repeated those words over and over again as the meaning of the words seized her heart with unparallel horror, and turning her into a mad woman, "If I lose to those cravings, then I will lose my sanity, and I will die. I don't know what to do. I am so scared. It is like every breath I take will bring me closer to death, every time I sleep I am losing more time. Each time I lose against my thirst, I am falling apart. Don't you understand, Master Haruka? I don't want to die."

Haruka gazed at Elise, taken aback by a discovery of a darker, lachrymose side that he had not seen before, so profoundly stem was his belief that she was happy.

"Are you upset that I saved you then?" he asked her lightly through shrouded pupils.

"I…" Elise bit her lips, looking away shamefully, "I don't know… I am happy, but happiness is only temporary. When the night returns, my fear grows. The more pleasure I receive, the more I fear to lose it. There is nothing in death for me. There is nothing in death for anyone."

"If you wish," Haruka began softly, "I could deliver you from this cursed life, painlessly. You won't feel anything, and you will not have to suffer again. Do you understand me? If you ask of me, I will not refuse your request. Don't worry about you way after, where you go, it will be eternity in which death itself was conquered. There is nothing to fear in death, for it is only a gift that the mortals do not appreciate. Eternity is a greater enemy."

Elise's eyes stared at Haruka's impassive face. Her lips parted…

"I was wondering where you were Haruka," Father opened the door with a lazy smile, not surprised at all to find the bizarre situation, almost as he had predicted that such event were to happen. "You do realize it is quite rude to be late for a previously addressed appointment."

Haruka's eyes widened and he stood up sharply with his eyes piercingly upon his Father, shielding Elise from Father as if he were a mother defending its weak younglings.

"Good day, Father," Haruka acknowledged shortly.

"Oh look at what I caught," Father's refined manner were slow and deliberate like he were fairly amused by Haruka's petty act, "it is a crime to drink from a pureblood. I think we might need to execute your little, cute pet for the transgression."

"I gave her permission to," Haruka said hastily, still in a protecting stance. His physique tensed and rigid as his thin brows deepened its ceases. "You have not right to kill her. She is under Juuri's care."

"Is that so?" Father arched an eyebrow elegantly, and smiled delightfully, but Haruka did not trust it, "Well then, I shall forget this incident… just don't let me catch you again, Haruka. But I believe you need a little bit of reminder on why we do not allow ex-humans to drink out blood since you seemed to have forgotten my words of kindness and the reason of my gift of leniency, I am not pleased by this at all, dear Haruka."

His Father turned away; his red eyes gleamed dangerously in the blackness as he glanced back at his dishonorable son. "Come Haruka, let us speak privately in my office."

Haruka obeyed, but the moment the study door fastened with a loud click, Haruka smashed agonizingly against the wall as thick tomes fell noisily by him with fluttering leaves, and broken woods gouged into his flesh as blood oozed and trickled down his limbs, blooming black rose bouquet on the dark floor.

"Forgive me for using such uncouth method, but it seems that you do not understand my words when I speak them kindly," Father hissed coldly as he surveyed Haruka's weak form against his shelf, speaking to Haruka as though he were an inferior, not his son. He maliciously pushed the invisible blade deeper with thinned eyes, pinning Haruka down against the furniture like a small trapped butterfly, shoving his son into the wall with shimmering, pointed needles. Red fluid traced a wiry stream down Haruka's lips as he bit them heavily, refusing to cry out in pain as wooden parts snapped off by the force, digging him at various angle, and the inviting smell of his blood once again polluted the chamber, leaking through cracks like noxious gas. Haruka stared at Father through feverish eyes, breathing heavily as he attempted to retain control of his faltering conscious.

"What is going on?" Juuri screamed in a shrill voice when she blasted open the study door, as the wind pulsing with it, the enthralling scent of Haruka's blood alerted her while she prepared herself into formal fashion as she pinned up her locks into an elegant knot for an official trip with Father. She had immediately abandoned the task at hand and followed the direction of the scented breeze.

"Stop it dad!" She clutched her Father's arm, breaking his concentration off her bleeding brother, and Haruka slid down feebly onto the floor, crumbling into a pale patch of limbs. "What did Haruka do so wrongly that you must inflict corporal punishment?"

Father grinned in a fashion that sends cold shivers down Juuri's spine, "He was letting an ex-human drink his blood. If he enjoys wasting his blood, then I shall waste it for him."

"It is not wasting," Haruka coughed and red liquid fell from his lips, but he looked up angrily and defiantly at his Father.

"You mean Elise?" Juuri sneaked a hurried glance at Haruka. "Haruka allowed Elise to drink his blood," she repeated hollowly and dully. She gazed at Haruka with brows in a delicate bow as if she found no wrong in her Father's reasoning.

Father didn't answer her. He gazed down on Haruka as he never had seen anything so disgusting, some unworthy creature of his presence. "We, the purebloods, do not let ourselves be food of others. You do not understand how critical it is that you do not allow lowly one to feast on your flesh? Our bodies hold strange powers that should not be given to others. They will desire, and they shall no longer fear. Is it your wish for us to become common cattle? I will not permit this abomination to happen in my household."

Father spun around and said calmly to Juuri, "Make haste. Your fiancé is returning tonight. We must go and welcome him back at the intersection with a nice little celebration. I will request for the carriage as you gather up your frivolous matters."

Juuri waited until after their Father left the room before walking up the Haruka's crumpled form, carefully avoiding splattered blood to stain the fluttering hem of her white gown.

"I don't know what you were thinking, but letting Elise drink your blood. No matter how… urgent," her tongue wrapped distastefully around the word, "it might have been, you shouldn't have permitted it. Like Father said, we are not common cattle for other to imprint their desire on us."

"She is your friend," Haruka whispered weakly, still breathing harshly from the impact. His dry throat cringed, withered excruciatingly with yearning for blood as the ground beneath trembled with attacks of sickening nausea over the continuous blood loss.

"She is might be a friend, but there is a difference between us. I would help her, but allowing her to bite me is not an option. She is of a lower class, in fact, the lowest of low in our society, and drinking our blood is forbidden to anyone, no exceptions. She is lucky that she is still alive by our Father's kindness," Juuri replied evenly and cruelly, eyeing the disorder on the floor with revulsion. "I understand our Father's reasons. I could only hope you would understand it too. Elise will have to be punished for this. I will see to it."

She turned away, stopping before the door to deliver one last bit of news. "Father and I will not be returning tonight. Do not wait for us…. Have a wonderful evening," she bid him dutifully before leaving.

Yet as the last of Juuri's step echoed away into the cold night, Mother materialized before Haruka in her full sinister beauty, adorned by a bright red kimono, a symbol of her love for the exotic and forbidden. Her smiling, white teeth, and her thinned, dark, glittering eyes knew of his careful avoidance of her since they shared that fatal kiss.

Haruka tried to focus his distorted vision on her façade as she descended to his level. Haruka felt too weak to resist her seductive advances, for she controlled an innate domination over him as if he were a dancing marionette within her palm to toy, no matter how much as Haruka wished to deny the disturbing, heavy bond existed sorely between them; he was born to bare her sins and biddings. Haruka twisted his head away as a last desperation to disregard her endeavor to establish influence over his will and to ignore a growing, irate, rancorous desire within him.

Her hand caressed his face, wiping the crusted redness away. "My poor child…" she murmured beguilingly along his jaw line as her glistening lips traced it lightly, never fully touching him. Her black locks cascaded down her front and back, against the velvety redness, bouncing into glossy ringlets in its ends.

Haruka reached out blindly as the ravenous beast snarled and growled began to contaminate his feeble mind, the beast was him, and he was the beast. Haruka brusquely took a handful of those glossy tresses and pulled her perfumed neck to his lips violently, nuzzling Mother's throat anxiously, sucking on the sweet, soft skin. He widened his mouth and as his wolf-like molars crashed abrasively into Mother ruby blood poured out of those wounds, seeping onto his tongue and Haruka sighed in relief.

She shuttered with ecstatic gratification, grabbing his hair aggressively and pushing him closer against her, pressing his face against her curves. Her white fingers tangled with those black strands as she clutched onto him firmly.

Haruka's movement became bolder, sucking eagerly on the laceration with greater excitement.

A hoarse moan escaped her scarlet lips as he licked the circular punctures, his tongue twisting around the holes, thirsting for more blood.

Mother chuckled blissfully. Haruka stopped suddenly, looking up at his Mother with misty, melancholy eyes as if he was a lost child.

Mother leaned down, still smiling lovingly, her dark lustrous threads danced around him, beautiful and ephemeral, and Mother pressed her soft, inviting lips against his keenly and slowly.

He opened his mouth willingly and kissed back passionately as if she were a cool fountain in a desert, completely entranced by Mother and yielded to his peculiar, immoral magnetism to her. Their tongues flickered and intertwined damply and sensually. Recovering enough strength to fervently embrace his Mother back, Haruka found the collar of Mother's red dress, gripping it roughly, wrenching the wicked, annoying top down as they indulging ardently in their kindling affair. The vermillion fabric screeched shrilly in his hand, but Haruka paid no heed as he threw the torn material over his head.

He pushed her down against the luxurious, burgundy carpet under him, tracing her voluptuous figure from her smooth shoulders down.

Mother laughed happily and undid his black tie as it fluttered down by her face, landing coiled like a sleeping serpent on her glossy locks that were spread out like a silk-screened fan against the dark red floor.

Her fingers worked meticulously on his buttons, but she become impatient at the difficult task, and opted to tear the shirt open, pushing the sides apart to reveal pale, sculpted torso, just alluring and tempting for someone to sip and feast its creamy and milky shell.

Their position had changed drastically as Mother rolled on top of Haruka forcefully with her half-naked self, pinning him under her with a delighted, girlish giggle, and licking his collarbone fiercely like it were some delicious lollipop, her slim fingers crawled hungrily all over his beautiful, lean body, shoving away anything item obfuscating her journey. Her pallid shoulder protruded from the destroyed dress and her thin long legs sprawled out from the high, provocative slits of the dress, kneeing on either side of Haruka's hip.

Their similar slender, white limbs tangled frantically, seeking rapturous pleasure from the other's heated flesh.

When Haruka finally reached release, a flash of white light hampered over his foggy mind and he jerked back on the velvety carpet with a sudden loud gasp as if a fulfilling electric jolt pulsed painfully through his body.

He breathed heavily, still slightly trembling from the lingering orgasm in his bloodstream. His moist silken strands glimmered against his forehead, drenched in sweat.

As she rolled off him and stared unseeingly into some space beyond the confinement of the study, Mother's silken locks intertwined between his fingers, her leg across his hip, and a long arm tickled his sides.

Her perfume was engraved into his memories forever.

Haruka closed his eyes, lying among the debris and the flung, discarded clothes.

He finally sat up and reached for his tattered shirt, beginning to don it on.

His fingers hesitantly ran over the luxurious, vermillion silk onto the uneven surface of the lavish embroidery of Chinese dragon slithering menacingly on Mother's tattered kimono; its budging, orange eyes glared forebodingly at Haruka, and its sinister jaws curved into a sly smirk not unlike frightening clowns of a nightmarish fantasy, stretching its gilded claws threateningly. His palm trailed over the threads that marked head of the monster lightly like caressing a tamed kitten.

Haruka wrinkled his brow carelessly and his maroon pupils gleamed coldly. The heavy, velvety fabric turned into thin shreds of red and analogous colors underneath his hand.

The Red dragon was killed and Haruka smiled.

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**A/N:** ...Please don't hurt me?...

As Chrystelle put it after she read the chapter, "So the mom slept with the son in the dad's office?"

Everything I've written so far had been leading up to this moment... So I hope it doesn't really come as THAT much of a shock. Since I was pondering about inbreeding in pureblood families, if sibling inbreeding are allowed, then how about between a parent and child? How would they look upon that if incestuous relationship are acceptable?

I am curious on what the readers' opinions are about Haruka and/or Mother. Haruka is my "control" while Mother is "my wild card," but in my mind, their relationship is not romance... they are not a couple.

So please leave me a review, criticism, thoughts, or flames... I really want to know what you are thinking.


	7. The Sons of Lot's Daughter

**Disclaimer:** I do not own VK or King James' Bible

**Warnings:** Incest, non-graphic-ish sex, and dark themes

Credits to Obin and Chrystelle

Delicated to ones who are still here

* * *

"And there was no more sea."

**Revelation 21:1**

* * *

**Chapter 6: The Sons of Lot's Daughter**

White slender fingers reached hesitatively for a white tie tossed carelessly in the glossy cherry wood drawer under the dim chandelier glow, and it looped around his collar, tying the knot expressionlessly.

There was a polite series of short knocks against his chamber door.

Haruka looked up from his task and answered indifferently, "Enter."

A blond maid peaked in from the crack, and reminded him dutifully, "Master Haruka, the celebration is starting. Madam Kuran wished for you to be down."

"Is that so?" Haruka's claret pupils that bored a plain dullness flicked over temporarily with a hint of dark annoyance glimmered faintly within the wine red irises, and finished up the bow hastily with a swish of his hand. "I'll be down immediately. You may leave."

"Yes, Master Haruka. I bid you a good evening" she curtsied respectfully and meekly, and scuttled away to her other duties, leaving in Haruka's room only faded sugary fragrance and quiver of the laced hem of the maid uniform.

When Haruka arrived gracefully the banquet in merely minutes, he was clad in a tailored, elegant suit, and a carefully measured smile with calmly hooded eyes, the appearance of a perfect refined gentleman. He entered the dinner hall with generous, polished steps, it was a brightly golden architecture with a painted dome of a recreated Michelangelo piece, lingering sighs and praising of the everlasting grandeur and power of the ominous God over its pathetic creatures with bold colors and longing wisps of horse-tailed brushes. They are the God, and the night was theirs.

"My brother," Rido opened his arms with an haughty grin, dressed in a black suit and a frivolous, Prince Albert tie around his pale neck as he spun around when he sensed Haruka's presence treading into the great ballroom, "You have come. I was waiting for you quite diligently. I was worried that you would have chosen not to appear at my party."

Haruka accepted his embrace as they touched briefly and quickly at the door. "Why would I do that?" He chuckled lightly as it were a fair dinner table joke and replied sincerely. "You are my dearest brother. I must show my face to at least to congratulate you."

"Really?" Rido's eyes narrowed and the azure on focused so intensely on Haruka as though he wished to comprehend the complexity of Haruka's soul or the truth behind the mocking smirk. "I am glad to hear that."

Haruka gazed away into the hordes of prominent vampiric families as they started muttered excitedly among themselves with various glances seemingly casual toward them, for tonight all blood members of the Kuran clan was attending the party and it was a pure rarity to be in the fearful company of them all. He shielded himself from the uncomfortable searching stare, waiting keenly for an opportunity to sing praises like a caged parakeet. "Where is little Juuri? I would have thought she would be with you," Haruka remarked, looking around for his little sister inquisitively, cautious not to meet anyone's obnoxious gawk to allow them to seek reasons to converse to him.

"She danced the opening round with me before something shiny caught her eyes and she ran off somewhere," Rido shrugged sketchily, motioning at the orchestra, but a dangerous gleam warned Haruka not to speak of the subject anymore. Rido never enjoyed the close, platonic relationship shared by the two siblings, so had Haruka noted vigilantly.

"Well, pardon me then. I will greet our Father and Mother," Haruka said silkily, before turning away smoothly toward where he marked his parents last, standing in the center with jointed arms, hers hooked around the elbow flimsily and his hugged the thin waist, draped by soft green fabric, possessively.

"Wait Haruka, one more business for tonight," Rido's low voice stopped his movement. "You are now of age, correct?"

Haruka glanced back uncaringly with a precaution prepare within the unreadable sultry pupils, partly hidden by long strands of soft ochre strands, "Thus?"

"As I recall you are engaged to the respectable daughter born to the house of Hiou, I was thinking of suggesting Father to start activating that engagement for their daughter may be slightly youthful but she possessed a matured mentality," Rido watched Haruka's visage charily as his tone were light and pleasant like a concerned friend, but Haruka perceived a sparsely dusted sarcasm within each letter. Rido's fanged fingers toyed with the wine glass in his palm, tracing its fragile glass rims, waving the red liquids.

"Oh no," Haruka rejected the nice offer kindly, "It is only proper for me to marry after you, Rido, the eldest son. My dear Shizuka is only fourteen; I'm afraid that such age is quite too young for me. You know the tradition, Rido. I would rather not offend those important rules."

"I see," Rido replied shortly as his laced eyes darkened as his thoughts returned into the bottomless depth of his mind. "You may leave."

Haruka smiled deeply and his eyes thinned agreeably as if he were glad to have finally settled the matter, "Thanks you."

Haruka walked up to his parents, and the glittering, golden crowds parted reverently, bowed and curtsied like servants of which they were.

"Good Evening Mother," Haruka leaned down light and kissed his Mother courteously on both soft cheeks.

She was absolutely a goddess tonight. She had donned a long billowing emerald gown for the occasion, rising up around her pale breasts comfortably was an empire waist dotted with jewels and delicate embroideries, and the skirt poured down into layers of shimmering emerald materials one over the other like a magnificent waterfall, curling by her feet like foams as if a proud mermaid princess emerging from the blue sea.

"Good evening, Haruka," she responded simply and handed him a wine glass as he tilted over. "You are late."

"Haruka," Father nodded primly to his direction as they shook hands. He was rather unforgiving about the recent incident, and retained a cool air to Haruka ever since.

"Pardon my lateness for congratulating with my brother kept me," Haruka explained easily and sipped his wine glass as the intoxicating taste of bitter alcohol wallowed in his tongue, washed over his senses.

Mother's slim, pallid forefinger circled the rim of her half-empty glass leisurely once, her dark lovely eyes scrutinized Haruka's face, meeting his identical exquisite eyes for a moment, and she turned to her sinisterly handsome husband, beaming beautifully and generously like a gorgeous fairy queen. "Darling, do you wish to dance?"

He smiled back, and tucked a stray strand of silken lock behind his wife's ear gently, "Maybe later, love. I am quite busy right now."

"That's fine," Mother attention shifted to her daughter who strolled in delicate little cat's steps, dressed in a black, doll-like gown for she was still too childish for dresses of other natures, it adored her with dainty black embroideries of artistic patterns and white laces which framed the hems and sleeves. She bended down and hugged her little daughter warmly. "Why hello…"

Juuri was taken aback by the affection of a Mother she was foreign to, who always observed her coldly in passing and only muttered a few, selected words to her ever since she could recall faded images from infantile time, whereas Mother had always showered her lovely brother, Haruka, with plentiful attentions and loving words even she grew jealous to. She wondered what had parted Haruka and her in Mother's indecipherable eyes.

"Good evening Mother and Father," she murmured awkwardly with a faint blush brushing her cheeks, and kissed both adults twice on the cheeks. "Good evening, Haruka."

"How are you, Juuri?" Haruka said politely, rubbed her hair as if he were tickling a kitten. His fingertips touched her pale, thin throat briefly before placing his fingers under her chin, lifting her face to meet his eyes.

She could barely restrain her flinch when her eyes flickered to his peculiarly indifferent ones.

"Would you do me the honor of sharing a dance with your brother?" Haruka asked softly, smiling kindly, but she could discern the immerse, water-like tenderness had ebbed from his irises, more coolness and less of what she adored him for.

Juuri nodded as black, shimmering ringlets twirled when they cascaded down her back and shoulder in thick masses of luxurious, lustrous tresses. She held out her hand to Haruka and he accepted it gracefully with an obedient bow, leading her to the dance floor as others divided for them again.

They swayed to the rhythm of song, some classical melody whose name had escaped Haruka's memories.

She was barely reached his shoulders in her current petite height, thus he crouched his back a bit as they waltzed sophisticatedly across, each faultless at each beat and catching each other's arms at dips and swings.

When she was returned into his arms, Juuri grasped his hands tightly and she stared at his eyes intensely with powerful emotions glowering. She whispered urgently in a manner that only he would hear, "You have changed Haruka…"

"Have I?" he treated it as if she were speaking a distasteful lie.

"Yes, you have," Juuri replied firmly, tightening her hold on him, preventing him from pulling her into another spin. "Are you mad about Elise's punishment? I had to do it. You know that Haruka, if it were to dad, then he would torture her to death. Anyways, it isn't anything too harsh for a vampire. She would recover by tomorrow night. Don't be mad, Haruka."

"I am not mad," Haruka rebuked evenly as he held her against him and they swerved in a continuous circle. "I was at fault for acting so rashly."

Juuri loosened her fist and she relaxed visibly as their feet danced like perfect ballet dolls, "I'm glad you are not mad. It would pain me if you hate me."

"I don't hate you," Haruka led her forward and dipped her dainty body once, holding her confidently between his hands, "You are my only little sister. I can't hate you even if I want to."

Haruka released her hand as the song dwindled into a longing end and she muttered a word of gratitude. He watched after her as she skipped away in black high heels flashing from underneath her flapping hems toward Rido, her face smiling brightly at his brother as Rido extended an inviting hand and she jumped into his embrace, improper perhaps, but it was forgiven and loyally unseen because of her age and statues. She was always been quite fond of Rido as he watched her speaking animatedly with his brother.

Haruka turned to converse to some old acquaintances and reputable businessman about some recent economic phenomenon for a few minutes even though the conversation soon mutated into a secret, suggestive chat to establish favorable connections, only thinly veiled by some mentions of the stressful situation of foreign markets.

Then Haruka discussed with Windshire temporarily about the surrounding circumstance and his housing in the desert nation he will reside in. Windshire was accompanying to the Savannah ridden country to serve as a confident and companion under Haruka, a condition that had been permitted by his Father.

Windshire smiled confidently with his clear, crystal blue eyes gleamed excitedly for the things to come, and promised of organized plans upon arrival in a breathless whisper.

"I trust you," Haruka imparted to him before glancing at his watch and realize that it had been an hour.

"Thank you, I am honored," Windshire grinned happily for it was the greatest compliment a pureblood could give to his underlings. They were friends, closest of Haruka's common associates, but they were foremost business partners and such existed a thick, visible line that neither of them could sadly cross.

"Enjoy the party," Haruka wished him before walking off into the exit slyly and darted into a dark forgotten hallway of the Kuran manor.

He closed the door of an unused room behind him as he entered expressionlessly , where its pallid walls hung with dusted paintings and furniture draped silently in white sheets that glowed in blue-ish tints under the flawed moon, a forgotten nook where the maids had neglected.

As he locked the door with a heavy click as bolt slid into place, a pair of long, white arms tangled around his waist; her weightless breath puffed against the back of his neck.

"You are late again," she whispered tenderly and sensually against his earlobe as she took one between her lips, sucking on it seductively, teasing his sensitivity.

Haruka stiffened, and replied, "I was talking to someone and I didn't notice the time, Mother."

"Oh, no bothers. Anyways, I'm sure your Father will not miss me," Mother sighed with her fingers crawled up to unbutton Haruka's collars as Haruka examined her fingers with light interest. His tie withered uselessly on the floor nearby. "You have really taken a lot after that bastard, Haruka."

Her soft mouth worked from his ear down to the back to his neck, leaving a trail of red and damp path as her hand cleared a small route of pale skin down his lean torso, her fingers lingered covetously.

Haruka turned hastily and met her lips roughly as they touched passionately at each other's soft and smooth flesh and the forbidden feelings heightened the sexual desire within them, knowing they were betraying their family, slowly killing the remaining Kuran honor.

Haruka pinned Mother against the wall, and slipped his palm greedily over her soft thigh as they kissed with more fervor, each caress seemed to ignite more brilliant blaze and create even more hungry yearning for other.

"Haruka," Mother's voice sounded oddly cool in such ardent instant even though her fiery tricks with her fingers told of other erotic tales, "did you know your Father is my uncle?"

"Yes," Haruka's answer breathed raggedly as he sought for more carnal fulfillment within her soft, beautiful body, keeper of deadly, desirous secrets.

"Do you know how he came to power?" her lips mumbled sweetly against his collar bone as she licked the skin teasingly and worshipped him lovingly.

His long fingers searched further up, sinister in its purpose, and slipped down her black knickers, tearing some of it delicate lace work with a lazy forefinger, pushing the length of her satin skirt up around her waist violently.

"Vaguely," he murmured blindly, dipped against her soft, ample breast, taking one of the red, delicious berries into his mouth, but he lied, he knew precisely what happened. He was taught, like a proper Kuran, of their family's bloody and dishonored history, spared of no gory details. Dreaming was a privilege of others, but it did not extend its affectionate hands to the sons of Kuran.

"Do you wish you know what the fate of…Ah!" her words were cruelly cut short by a sharp gasp as he plunged into her dampness. Her legs tightened against his waist and she was rocked rudely and painfully against the wall as he held on to her by clutching on her hips and against her back, a fingers traced down her spinal cord through the fabric mischievously.

Haruka buried himself inside his Mother, resting for a gentle one second before, thrusting in and out of her.

"I don't need to know," Haruka hissed hoarsely against her the snail of her ear as he was inside her once more with her warmness wrapped around him before leaving her maliciously again.

She chuckled hysterically at his answer, laughing until wetness stained her eyes. "Of course, you…ah…don't… need to know… ahhhh…" Catching her breath and containing her pleasured moans, Mother murmured huskily, "Your Father did much to get to where he is."

Haruka lowered his eyes as he continued to be submerged into a sightless sexual bliss, shoving himself into Mother. "He did what he had to do," he said swiftly and gutturally between gratifying gasps and lunges.

Mother tried to reply, but her words became muffled and slurred by her soft sighs and uncontrolled moans as his movement became faster and harder. She was slammed against the rough texture of the wall over and over again, where it hit, slowly gathered into a pink bruise, but she paid no heed as she reattributed by gripped Haruka' s back forcefully. Her fingernails dug into his flesh, wrinkling his tuxedo, forming rives of lustful creases. Her long, pale legs clasped Haruka's hips rigidly, her toes curled as each heated groan and firm thrust.

When she reached ecstasy, she almost screamed in delight, but Haruka pressed his lips against hers to restrain her voice as they devoured each other's mouth.

He only left her charming lips when he left the orgasm diminished and their passionate lock loosened.

Haruka panted, resting his chin on Mother's shoulder.

"Do you love Father?" he asked lightly as Mother's exotic perfume drenched his senses and her lovely, scented locks tickled his face.

There was a momentary silence, and Mother answered coldly, "I hate him."

She pushed him off her, cleaned herself with a handkerchief carefully. She fixed her appearance warily, fingers combed through her hair, repining an elegant knot up. She retouched on her make-up, and smoothed the wrinkles on her emerald dress until she was perfectly presentable again.

"I wish you good luck on your assignment," Mother kissed him on the cheeks as she fluttered by him. "I will see you later."

He stood with sweat dripping down his face, unbutton pants and torn open shirt.

Haruka bit his lips and his hand curled into an angry fist, trembling noiselessly in the darkness.

* * *

"Haruka," Rido found his brother outside, leaning against the marble railing of the balcony and enjoying the evening breeze with a glass of golden liquid.

"Rido," Haruka tilted his head slightly back and forced himself to smile.

"You disappeared for a while," Rido remarked, scrutinizing Haruka's appearance, "Why, Juuri was looking for you. She seemed to be quite bent on your anger at her for some petty matter about an ex-human."

"I wanted some fresh air, and I am not mad at her," Haruka replied carelessly.

"I've heard about the incident," Rido continued, "I was not surprised. You've always been so _soft and kind_ ever since we were young. Remember that level E hunt that we were sent to? You couldn't kill the poor bastard and I have to kill it and lie to Father for you… I've always hated that personality of yours. You are so useless, Haruka, even Juuri is a better pureblood."

Haruka didn't say anything for a moment. His eyes rested on Rido's mocking, cruel face and he saw another smiling younger Rido, whose hair curled wildly in the wind, who chimed that it was acceptable for Haruka to be so weak because when he become the heir of the Kuran clan, then he will protect his little brother forever from malicious words; the Rido that he had known doubled over with this unrecognizable Rido to whom he was speaking to.

Haruka began hoarsely, "Why have we become like this Rido? We used to be brothers and best friends."

"When you chose that bitch over me," Rido hissed irately, "When I asked you not to listen to her and all you said was 'I'm sorry.'"

"I didn't!" Haruka shook his head.

"Then why didn't you say anything when she suggested to Father that he should test us with tasks to choose the best heir?" Rido demanded. "Why didn't you object to it? Father specifically asked of your opinion…." Rido said softly, "You wanted to be the heir. didn't you? You betrayed me. You betrayed me for a title! After that day, it disgusts me to ever think you were my brother. You and that greedy bitch…"

"She is our mother!" Haruka rebuked, "How could you say that?"

"She is not my mother. From the day she spoke to our Father, she was my mother. She had always favored you Haruka, over everything while Father preferred me. Why did you think Father dislike you so?" Rido leaned over and whispered in Haruka's ears. "Though I never understood why she would think that you would make a good heir, but I accept her challenge. And you, Haruka, will wish that you were never born in this household. You were never supposed to be born anyways."

Rido glared coldly at Haruka with his glimmering blue eyes, and began to leave.

"You are still my brother, Rido, no matter what happens…" Haruka said dejectedly, staring at the back of Rido's head, "Would you ever forgive me?"

"From the day that you accepted Father's assignment, you were not my brother anymore. You are… my enemy." Rido spoke with finality. "Someday, I will kill you with my own hands, Haruka. There is only a room for one Kuran son in this world. It will not be you."

The glasses doors slammed shut, and fresh cracks ran smoothly on the panels and formed forlorn spider webs.

* * *

"Master Haruka…" Windshire parted his mouth in the tranquil silence as Haruka continued to gaze unseeingly at the greenery outside the running carriage as the dawning rosy sun glimmered over in the distant, drifting somewhere between his thoughts.

"You can call me Haruka here, no need for futile manner for invisible audiences" he interrupted calmly, turning toward Windshire with a raised eyebrow, "What is it?"

"Of course… Haruka," Winshire nodded eagerly as he pronounced his name with some hoarse struggle from disuse. "Pardon me for the difficulty with informalities. It had been many years since we could speak so privately and intimately without any prying eyes."

"It had been," Haruka smiled gently and ingeniously at his friend, causing the later to blush. "What did you wish to speak about?"

"Your request for monitoring Rido's actions…our friend had report back," Windshire said carefully, his eyes darted left to right cautiously even though he was positive that eavesdropping was impossible for even the driver was of their division, and possessed no abnormal skill.

"The result?" Haruka prompted carelessly with a tone of total detachment, only the concerned gleam in his irises provoked Windshire to continue.

"Your brother had been doing some strange scientific experiment on testing the capability of pureblood to shift souls and resurrect bodies. The friend was very vague on this matter, but I don't like the sound of it." Windshire explained seriously as his dark hair swayed by his visage with the rhythm of cobbling steps of horses, observing Haruka's shrouded pupils.

"Did our friend tell us why is he messing with things that sort of nature?" Haruka's shaped brows tangled and he swallowed thoughtfully, contemplating about his brother's new found interest in biological researches. It worried and disturbed Haruka for he could not guess nor read his brother's reposition.

"No," Windshire answered immediately as his hands tightened on his lap, angered at his own failure to secure concrete answers for Haruka. "I tried asking, but our friend repeatedly told me that Rido did not state the reason. Please forgive me for my inability, Haruka."

"Rido… he have been quite concerned with my affairs recently," Haruka said quietly, returning his gaze toward the darkness of the forest outside, where sinister shadows crawled under the threatening arms of thick, black foliage even the rising sun's powerful rays couldn't dare to stroke, "It is discomforting and I do not wish for him to meddle in my business. He was never this involved or interested in my matters. I need to find out what changed recently, what had made him cautious of me, to rid himself of my existence so actively."

Haruka sighed resignedly, and massaged his temple wearily, sorrow and fatigue lined his exquisite countenance, "Anyways, I am glad to have gotten out of that house. I am able to breathe more freely away from it. My actions could be more reckless and unlimited. My family has been quite unbearable recently."

"But we are heading into another mess," Windshire added unenthusiastically as his sapphire eyes dimmed at the prospect, "a mess that I would rather not interfere in. Do you realize how complicated and problematical an assignment Master Kuran had given you?"

"If it is simple, then it would not be of Father's conduct," Haruka dismissed Windshire's complain with an impatient, slightly reprimanding nature. "Let us focus only on solving it instead of unproductive mourning. Or dare I say that it is too difficult for a noble such as you, Windshire? I could always replace you with Aidoh for my companion for he had expressed great eagerness to take your place. I didn't know such position was of popularity. Though it would pain and distress me to have to do so, Windshire."

"No, Haruka, I would not give up this, not to Aidoh" Windshire accepted it grudgingly. "Should we start discussing the situation, run over some materials before hand?"

"Yes," Haruka agreed shortly and his attention shifted back to Windshire's boyishly handsome features. "It would be wise to do so."

The morning glow stung Haruka's complexion. He winced, looked away and pulled the curtain down.

Darkness draped over the carriage, but they traveled on into the deep, mysterious desert that awaited them with bloody and smiling palms, where the yellow, dry sands claimed king.

* * *

**A/N**:

I am going to answer some reviews:

**"we both really like this story, and like where it is going so far. but we have one question.**

**Isn't parent/child you know, like illegal... and injust... and... like rape?**

**A and N"**

by** a and n**

I have already answered this personally. But I am going to answer it again because I am sure others thought of the same thing.

Incest is illegal in American, and it is pretty much a social taboo anywhere else. It is only illegal because we, as a society, perceive it as a method to keep order. It is a social rule and if social rules crumple, then society will no longer exst. We safeguard those rules to perserve the survival of our society. It seems like I went off tangent... sorry.

But the main point of my fic is to explore the incest in VK. Since it is acceptable between siblings, then I am going to test it between parent and child. I am not condoning this act, but I am not condemning it either.

In Haruka's case, I do not see it as rape because, as I said before, it is a consented action between both parties, and Haruka is a grown adult. I mean, there is an element of rape in the relationship between Haruka and Mother, but it is not in the way that most would expect it to be.

Also, rape is a very serious subject that I would rather treat with care.

**"oh come on...man that'll be just weird. Even that does not occur in animals."**

by **Grey**

I want to say it probably does occur between rats and some bacteria life form...

But I did post warnings, and I really meant those.

**"wow.. your way to describe things is always wonderful..  
I really like that.. But, is it just me, or Juuri is a little bit too cold? Doesn't she supposed to be warm and loving especially towards Haruka? At first, I tought she was like Haruka's source of sanity in the middle of his insane family, The one who loves him purely..**

**Well, either way, I hope you'll update soon ..  
can't wait to see Haruka and Juuri's growing relationship.."**

by **harukacchi**

I am working toward Juuri's growth as a character in this fic. As you might have read in the beginning, she is not that sweet as the manga suggested. I was experimenting with her character.

She is, as of currently, engaged to Rido, and she lives in a dysfunctional family. Her original personality might be what you have visualized, but after all these years of being with Rido and such, it is difficult not to imagine her not to be a little bit twisted and cruel. Plus she is a Kuran pureblood vampire; she is bound to this curse of her family.

Also, this fic isnt as focused on the HaruJuuri relationship as much as you think. It will, but right now, I am following Haruka more closely and in the next few chapters, Juuri will not come up, but she will become the focus of the story very soon.

Thank you **wildchartermage, sinnerchrno, Obsidian Twilight**, and everyone who have reviewed this fic.

I really appreciate it, and I would reply to all of the reviews... but as you can see, I get pretty wordy, so I dont think you would want to read all of my rambles.

* * *

**A/N:** I am in a very important and busy stage of my life. I am going to continue writing, but it is hard for me to write as often as I used to. I'm sorry I dont update as often as I should, but I really do try to present the best quality writing I could summon.

Once again, thank you for reading my Author's notes.


	8. The Heart of Darkness

**Disclaimer:** I do not own VK or King James' Bible

**Warnings:** Dark themes, politics, implied sex, and distrubing situations

* * *

"And he doeth great wonders, so that he maketh fire come down from heaven on the earth in the sight of men"

-**Revelation 13:13**

* * *

It was a memory from when he was younger. Before he started his training as a Kuran son in foreign countries, before his world started to be comprised of only lies and missed opportunities, before he despised everything that the Kuran clan stood for, but more importantly it was before his playful and sweet older brother, Rido, began to eye him with glint of mistrust and treat him as an enemy and not a brother.

It was before the beginning of the end and the end of everything.

"Rido, wait for me!" Haruka scampered behind his older brother, but still unused to the sizzling morning sun, he flinched as a flicker of ray touched his skin and felt the spot burned painfully.

He staggered over, tripping over an innocent rock, and fat tears started to form in his large eyes.

Ten year old Rido sighed and came back, crossing his arms sternly like a miniature adult complete with a formal suit, "You have to get used to the sunlight, Haruka. If we are ever to sneak out, it would be easier to do it in the day."

"It hurts…" Haruka whispered, but stood up bravely, wiping his face clean. "So where are we going Rido?"

"That's the spirit!" Rido clapped Haruka's back heavily. The little boy stumbled a bit, but held his ground.

Rido picked up his little adorable brother's pudgy hand. He was glad that he had gotten a brother instead of a sister. A little sister couldn't play with him or sneak out with him. Girls were fragile and cry too much, Rido thought with distaste.

"Let's go to the barn and I will teach you how to ride a horse," Rido pulled the little boy behind him as he started running, since he suspected their caretakers had already realized that they weren't in their beds.

The grass was slippery and golden green underneath him. The bird fell out of tree like falling white papers as they rushed past them, but Haruka didn't think much about it.

Rido made sure his little brother was unharmed under the tree's shade.

They owned a lovely English garden, spamming a new hundred acres, backed by an ancient forest, but too bad there was no one to enjoy it. The garden, it seemed to Rido then, was just a beautiful object made of crystal, fragile, and gems, carefully woven by faithful gardeners, but it was just an item of luxury, of loneliness with no purpose of its existence beyond the loveliness of the surface, a show of wealth.

But now, he had someone to share that empty Kuran mansion with, to share this happiness with. He had a cute little brother named Haruka.

The innocent Haruka stared at his older brother's lively face and trusted.

* * *

Haruka woke up to a very unpleasant circumstance.

He stirred wearily between hard, unfamiliar sheets under a large soft bed, gazing up to the empty arched and ornate ceiling blindly as if a thick, invisible veil fell over his eyes, still drifting in mid-dream, and sounds of some very relentless man berating at Windshire jerked him brusquely around the neck and jolted his mind violently, plucked him from some foreign fantasy back to the hot, harsh atmosphere.

Haruka staggered across the cool, adobe floor, dusted over with soft, Seljuk carpet of vivid colors and intricate geometric designs that seemed to whisper in rich, hushed words of the secrets of the Arabian nights.

He didn't know why his thoughts were shadowed with dried and decayed memories. Maybe the conversation he had before he left with Rido had affected him more that he would like to admit.

Haruka made an impatient noise and decided to place the matter in the back of his mind.

The air was heavy with yellow sand and blasts of hot, dry wind that bought no relief to the suffocating condition of the desert, a land of no mercy for a vampire, especially a pampered one.

Haruka wrinkled his brows as the crack of the drapery revealed a slit of powerful, white-hot rays of sun, stabbing like a treacherous beam onto the floor.

Haruka flinched at the bright reflection and he pulled the curtain to a complete close and darkness fell invitingly, dipping him in cool shadows.

Haruka gave a small sigh of relief.

He wished to rest more for the journey was tedious and harsh, overbearing for a spoiled one such as he, but the continuous, impolite speaking beyond the locked door was begging for Haruka to resolve.

Haruka unfastened the door and leaned against the threshold lazily as he demanded in a soft, weightless voice at his guest in the salon, "Who is it, Windshire?"

His eyes swept across their exotic villa, the walls laced with ceramics of patterned flowers and dotted with delicate artworks. Elaborately carved columns supported the arched roofs, so wonderfully sculpted as if the artist had captured water totems in mid spray and intertwined the natural miracles with multiple shades and rich hues of vivid red, glorious yellow, golden green, and its many friends. Some lounges placed tastefully in mid salon as Haruka marked a man and his faithful servant bickered. The old, plumb man glared furiously at Haruka as he entered, but the white, hot gaze cooled as his darkly mustached mouth pursed and curved into a smirk and he settled his grandpa-like body back onto the couch.

"Master Haruka," Windshire hastily stood up respectfully, scuttled in front of Haruka with a swift bow, his pretty, delicate visage was angered and worried at the appearance of Haruka, "You should rest more. I have gotten this under control." He narrowed his eyes at the old man disdainfully, for in his eyes, only Haruka was fit to be his master. But in Haruka's mind, such inflexible quality may be brave, yet dangerous and foolish for Windshire as he already passed down his value of usage in the General's eyes.

"I've rest enough," Haruka said pleasantly as he walked forward in a loose white shirt, "Pardon me, General, for my appearance and lack of manner for I was not expecting your visit so soon."

The General leaned back as his badges on his ink green military suit clattered noisily. He was a man who wore his pride freely on his sleeves, not a wise move, but not an enemy to be faintly trifled with. The General arose to where he is for a clear reason. He was a very dangerous man.

Haruka's eyes tapered and he sat down across the unwelcome visitor, inaudibly complimenting Windshire's decision in draping the whole room in deep shadows that bought a faint relief to Haruka's sensitive skin.

The General took off his beret hat civilly, his sharp, beetle-black eyes surveying the smiling Haruka carefully as his oiled-back hair gleamed greasily in the candle light, and those cold pupils flickered dangerously, but briefly.

"I was told by your Father that you will be a useful thing…" He began loftily as his arrogant, budging eyes glittered obnoxiously.

"You…" Windshire's white cravat shirt buffed up indignantly as he stepped by Haruka with his hand twisted into a tight fist. Power crackled treacherously in the air as static electricity, so full and ready to blast organs into bloody pulps. Windshire flexed his fingers threateningly, his pale features glowed pale blue as if he were a child guarding his prized possession.

"Windshire," Haruka sighed in a careless tone as if he was oblivious to the tension, but he controlled the situation with one word, subsiding Windshire's anger, "be a proper servant and bring us some tea please. Show some manner to our important guest."

Windshire inhaled and his fist relaxed weakly. He swallowed shakily, still quivering with ignominy, and regained his composure as his eyes quickly, which were blazed with icy flames, were calmed once more like the ice of the northern land.

"Yes, Master Haruka," he promptly spun around in fast, furious steps, a mean to signal his irritation and through the alcove, exited the room. Haruka sighed again and rested his head on a delicate forefinger.

"Please excuse my servant for his etiquette, he is a young chap who have not yet quite mature," Haruka apologized momentarily as he met the General's eyes firmly. "Now that we may speak privately, is there anything you wish in advance for coming to greet me so early?"

"You Father promised me of useful ones," the General stated in a powerful, harsh voice that reminded Haruka of the deadly winters and horrible wars. It was a cold voice that commanded death and controlled numerous lives and brought icy chills down every of his subordinate's spines, but at the same time, captured the perfect art of inspiring delightful fear and bubbling a strange desire to obey, dangerous combination, but two could play the game and Haruka happened to excel at it.

"Yes, he did," Haruka answered curtly.

"I am not content with what I see of two weak and _rude_ young men," the General spoke slowly and deliberately as if he wanted those words to be mulled over in Haruka's mind… as if he wanted to hurt and humiliate the delicate, beautiful vampire in front of him.

"I would rather to be judge base on performance than first impressions," Haruka counted coolly, reflecting the disgust with cold politeness.

"I've expected more out of creatures like you," General couldn't help but leaked malicious disappointment into his words.

"Creatures… like me?" Haruka repeated doubtfully. His wine-red, naturally melancholy eyes gazed innocently at the General's oily, egotistical face, which reminded of fat, piggy bulldogs adored by old, fat ladies of higher society.

"Yes, creatures like you," General wasn't deceived by Haruka's act, which would have dissatisfied Haruka exceedingly if he did. Haruka anticipated much more out of this cruel man who gasped a country that he had torn out of its former ruler's clutches brutally through a body-strewed civil war to savor the sweet, metallic taste of enchanting victory in the end.

"Tell me… General," Haruka breathed his words softly as his blood-redness seeped into his pupils, "How much do you know of creatures like me?"

General stared unflinchingly at Haruka. He did not know fear personally for he was mentally incapable of such sensitive and uncertain emotion, the General only understood of what he could not conquer. "Not much… just what Minister Kuran had hinted to me, a higher level of intelligence than human, an improved type of human, I've been imparted with only bits of the knowledge of your kind. I am though quite curious."

"Well, curiosity kills the cat," Haruka mumbled lightly over a much repeated cliché, the redness receded within his irises, and Haruka looked up at him, appeared like a normal, handsome youth. "Well, is that your purpose for today? To claim what is yours?"

"I am here to see what is mine," General corrected sneeringly and he stood up, patting lint off his clean and unwrinkled suit scornfully. "I've seen it and I wait to see its function that I hope I will not be sadden with."

"You will not," Haruka reassured as he stood up politely with the General.

"Please, you don't have to see me out," General drawled generously as if he had granted Haruka a great favor. "My guards are outside. I wanted to speak privately with you before you set foot in my court."

"Farewell and have a good evening," Haruka bid the man, and remained so until the General had left his view.

"That was a long time to prepare tea, Windshire," Haruka said without turning his head.

"I could take a hint and understand my presence isn't necessary," Windshire materialized behind Haruka sheepishly, biting his lips like a child waiting for his punishment. His blue pupils faded with shame. His lanky thin body drooped down like a wilted rose.

"How do you find the General?" Haruka asked lightly interested as he glanced back at Windshire. "A rather pleasant man isn't he?"

Windshire avoided Haruka's eyes, a light pink dusted over his pale face, "I find him absolutely horrid. I would rather die than to serve under him."

"But that is our task… as unlikable as he may be," Haruka murmured to himself as his pupils dimmed at the thought of the General and he exhaled unsteadily. "We will just have to make the best of the situation."

"Yes, Haruka," Winshire agreed obediently, and crimson filled his dark, glass pupils completely.

Haruka watched Windshire's meek submission quietly and suddenly found himself to be quite disturbed by this kind of compliance between Windshire and him.

Maybe that was what changed Rido: from the complete control to the lack of control when Haruka submitted himself to the Kuran game of hide and seek.

Rido…. Haruka thought with a sigh as his memories drifted once more as it was more prone to do these days….

* * *

The old professor droned on. His half-moon hanging on the tip of his long nose and his wiry grey hair sprouted out underneath his cap like wild grasses.

He lectured in a dull monotone and looked as if he had no idea he was still alive or not. He could have passed away in middle of the day and still show up to lecture later that evening.

A young Haruka slumped on his chair, his small face pressed against the pages in a blank stare into space, and the little eight years old pureblood was bored to tears.

Slam! Little twelve years old Rido kicked open the door, and rescued his poor little brother. Rido has the exact same professor and knew of his deadly ways.

As soon as Rido had returned to the mansion after his college course, he had heard of Haruka new dreadful tutor, and ran all the way to their designated classroom to save his little brother.

"You are coming with me!" Rido announced with a nasty glare at the trembling old man, who also gifted Rido with many grieves until Rido learned the horrifying power of his words couple of years ago and presented the old man with an unforgettable experience. When it was reported to Father, Father only laughed and said that kids will always be kids and gave Rido approving looks while Mother turned away and nursed her little new born son with more interest.

He never had that old professor ever again, thus he was quite unpleasantly surprised when he discovered that dreadful old man was torturing his favorite little brother. Rido thought the lesson he gave the bastard was enough to drive him from the Kuran mansion for eternity, but apparently not, since Father hired him right back for Haruka.

Rido dragged the stammering Haruka out of the classroom and said forcibly, "We are going to play hide and seek!"

Then, he without waiting for Haruka's answer, dashed into the mansion, screaming, "You are it, Haruka!"

Haruka stared, wild-eyed, after his cheating older brother, and glanced back at the white doors of the classroom where a handsome dent could be made out of where Rido's foot connected with the wood.

He shook his head, sighed, and counted to ten inaudibly.

"Ready or not, here I come!" he yelled into the darkness, unsure if Rido had heard him or not.

Later that night, after Father came home, Haruka was whipped and sent to his room without dinner for skipping classes even though Rido begged on his behalf that it was his fault at getting Haruka out of his scheduled study.

But Father spoke cruelly, "I don't need a son who would only listen to other's command, and have no wills of his own"

Rido bit his lips and said no more.

* * *

As the years passed like flying birds, the sand began to eat Haruka, bit by bit, and lived forever.

* * *

A pureblood vampire of mid-twenties dragged his steps wearily into his room, pulling hastily at his tie until it as a mess at the base of his navel. The softer lines of old immature beautiful features were scrapped harsher by the hardship of last couple of years. Where his dark, rose-filled eyes used to whisper kind secrets, however, now, a thick curtain had tumbled over its clear windows as if his pupils were no longer alive, but pools of liquidized gloom. His face was thinner, but angles were more pointed and pronounced. His hairs used to be curlier and free, but now slicked back in a tight, business manner. He bore some resemblance of the youngster he was, but ones who knew him would have sensed his metamorphose into something darker, sinister, yet more magnificent than that of the sympathetic shadow of his youth, who was devoured by the winged beast that submerged itself into the yellow, contaminated water of the river.

Haruka collapsed on the couch, raising an arm over his eyes, as he fell into a light haze, resting yet calculating on the various businesses that required to be dealt with.

It was difficult in this country as the Kuran influence didn't root as deeply and as sturdily as the other kingdoms he had occupied himself with. Haruka literally searched for allies in this divided state with his bare hands, and formed his own small coalition of useful men, but those weren't enough. Though he may understand much knowledge theologically, he was too young and too inexperienced. His powers were undeveloped and the elders of the Parliament controlled greater part of the government than his coalition, collected a complete set of mostly radicals and intellectuals of the new age that conflicted with the olden, conservative ideals of the most powerful members of the High House. It was too late when Haruka released his failure which was his Achilles' heel, yet by then, his respectable reputation was established and he sowed what he had reaped

These last few years, Haruka tried as he could to draw up a whole plan to counter against the guerilla rebellions that flowered like wild fires during a particular heated summer where fake heirs of old royalties rose and greedy others who took advantage of the situation to impose their ideals were inflamed with ravenous desire for the glory and power of the crowd. They've rode with the support of the impoverished people who regarded them as saviors of the harsh seasons where swollen summer seemed to bloat its days and sands began to flood into cities in raging waves.

Haruka predicted that he must conquer the people before he could destroy the guerilla. For controlling the people meant controlling the world. But those hopeful policies was always squashed immediately in the upper house although they could journey through the House of commons successfully where his party reigned king but in the higher house where his allies were few and hidden, the strategy was crushed, because he gave rights to the oppressed and poor citizens and as the ancients of the upper Parliament feared, it would give the people too much and they would crave more, their simple minds would overflow with desires for these serfs and peasants were merely animals and pawns to a much more complicated clockwork. They feared it would cost them more evils in the future and Haruka's idea would only bring a temporary peace, but in the end, ultimately, cripple the country. Such title slapped upon Haruka's good name had declined his popularity amongst the higher society despite his charms and influence.

Everyone surrounding Haruka seemed to want to watch the spectacular show of Haruka's catastrophe.

"Master Haruka," Windshire burst in with his long brown hair hastily gathered up in a small ponytail at the base of his head. His appearance, too, morphed quite dramatically. His once round and almost naïve blue eyes elongated into a more feline and hooded shape as his body thinned to the bone, and his limps seemed longer. He was a naïve young man when he came here, but as the years past in this country, its sandy claws had seeped its poison into him, and he was swallowed and eaten alive by the forever shifting desert and the mysteries of its stretching arms.

"What is it?" Haruka sat up, running a finger over his brows and asked.

"Remember the strange weapons we obtained from the rebels we last interrogated?" Windshire spoke in excited whispers as his eyes shimmered in the darkness, "I've pinned down its source."

"And?" Haruka did not seem as concerned in the subject as Windshire, but his low, flat tone expressed his interest. "What did you find?"

"Many of those weapons were branded by the smiths who created it. By tracing those names to the camp in which the weapons were created, I had to invest in a cruel practice since there were few unwilling participants, but I found out who had been funding our little enemies," Windshire explained breathlessly. "Haruka, do you remember the chain of companies you set up a couple of years ago under the Aidoh's name? They've been loaning money to the guerillas! The money changed through several hands and traveled through several banks in a complicated knot, but when I finally located the resource, it was a company of the trust that Haruka have created in Libitya. I've contacted Aidoh to discuss it, but he did not seem to know anything about it. But he wrote to me that the CEO he placed in charge was receiving direct order from someone within the Kuran organization to transfer the money into the hands of the guerillas. He tried investigating the identity of the respectable Kuran, but he was warned to stop his meddling by the higher-ups. Master Haruka, what is the meaning of this? Is it Rido who is trying to detain your progress? It couldn't be your Master Kuran, but I don't know who else would have the power to manipulate so carefully and thoroughly and to have the supremacy to command Aidoh."

Haruka's brows tangled and intertwined as he pondered hard at the newly discovered information. He parted his mouth, speaking slowly as if he were choosing his words very carefully, weighing every single letter, "I would have not think of it to be my Father, for he had assigned it to me and he disliked failures. But it would not be of Rido's to be able to interfere such way. It is not his manner."

"Then…" Winshire gazed at Haruka intensely and worriedly, "who is it? Who doesn't want us to successfully finish this? The Senate? But they would not use such tiresome methods…"

"Nor do they have the authority to control the assets of the properties of the Kuran family without my family's alarm," Haruka said softly, "whoever who did it must be a member of the Kuran clan. Maybe an extended relative I did not know about."

"Haruka…" Windshire gawked at Haruka's unreadable face for a moment with confused eyes.

Haruka lowered his eyes so that Windshire could not read through that layer of sooty lashes, "I would think about this thoroughly, and tell you of our actions next …."

Haruka signed and ran fingers through his hair and he sat in silence, pondering deeply.

After a few minutes, as if he had reached a final conclusion, Haruka wiped his face wearily and breathed, and he spoke, "I want to see Aaliyah tonight."

"You just saw her last week…" Winshire frowned, but his tensed body relaxed as they flowed into a lazier and more careless topic. He slumped down on the opposite side of the couch and sighed with happiness at the supple relief of the cushions. The constant traveling last few days weighed heavily on his body.

"What if…" Haruka hesitated, but a content smile blossomed on his lips and Windshire's neck flushed rouge, "I tell you that I want to marry her?"

Windshire gawked at him in a goldfish style, and his jaw dropped rudely. "You must be shitting me!"

Haruka chuckled at the language lightly, and assured smoothly, "I shit you not."

"Stop joking," Winshire tapped Haruka's arm playfully and precariously, "What about your poor fiancée? And Master Kuran, and the Senate?"

"It doesn't matter who I would marry it. After all, I am not the heir," Haruka rested his head on the back of his hand and said into the air flippantly, "Shizuka has better choice than me."

"But a pureblood's pride and duty… she is a human and an impure widow… I…"

"Stop blubbering like a fool," Haruka waved a dismissive hand and smiled soothingly but it was only a faint shadow of his old kindness for he had abandoned that gentle young persona to putrefy in the deadly shifting desert couple of years ago. "I was playing with your mind. Of course I will not marry her, my lovely little mistress," he answered calmly and indifferently. "No matter how much I adore her, I am a pureblood after all or as Father prefer to point out, she is just a lowly human."

There was a strange silence as the space stiffed when the echoes of Haruka's last words trailed off into a wistful end. Windshire tried to converse to bring an easier atmosphere back, but realized his throat patched as sandpaper and only succeed on croaking a few selected notes.

Haruka watched seemingly into the night where in the unpolluted sky, broken pieces of mirror sparkled cruelly in the dwellings, and he parted his lips again, "I always wondered why we are creatures of the night while all other creations of a selfish god have the basic right to bath in the warm sunlight…"

"In the end…I realized that, we are lambs that strayed so off the path that even the sunlight had forsaken us to the darkness."

* * *

"Haruka…"

She was born with the sweet songs of nightingales sealed in her golden throat. Every time she muttered his name as they embrace, it was as if she was chanting some beautiful blessing under her winded breath. Her touches were gentles and light like a butterfly's kisses as her slender fingers trailed the flawlessness of his face. She was as dark as chocolate and to Haruka, as sweet and comforting as the indulging bonbon. Her wavy curls were unlike those of the women in his family of neither the rather loose, watery ones of Juuri and his Mother nor the small compacted ones of Elise, but it was thick, full, and glossy, and when he took a handful, they would overflow his palm, dripping down in warm, mahogany ringlets.

Haruka rested in her embrace, dipped in her exotic scent that fumed her bedroom, his head against her soft, bare bosom. "What is it?"

She lowered her eyes worriedly. Her eyelashes didn't curl frivolously on its ends like Juuri's would, but instead, hung on her eyelids like little fans every time she blinked. "You are uneasy today," she sang to him melodies in forgotten languages and she always sensed when he was unhappy even if he was the tenderest lover that day. Maybe because of past experiences or her olden maturity, she could always calm him with a simple word or kind gesture, to smooth his nerves and lighten his day. He quite adored her, and planned to bring her as a lover back in his northern lands.

"You could always tell with me, Aaliyah…" Haruka opened his eyes and met her understanding ones. He loved how he could never detect any tainted thoughts in her clear as water pupils, where he could read her thoughts with a glance, and it was relaxing to know that she could never betray him nor could she hid any unkind thoughts from him.

"You felt stiff today," she explained plainly and her brows winkled a bit as she felt his joints.

"I figured out some things," Haruka said, "Do you want to know?"

"Do you want to tell me? I would listen. "

"I am bound to failure," Haruka hosted himself up so he could watch her features directly on top of her.

She touched his face freely as he closed his eyes, drowning in her gentleness, there was so much love and gentleness in that hand that he almost reached for it when she stopped, longing for something he never received in others, and asked, "Why would you say that?"

"My Father doesn't want me to thrive, so he added poison to my earth and rotted my precious seeds," Haruka said vaguely.

"Why doesn't he want you to thrive?"

"Because… if I do well, then I will outshine my elder brother, the heir, so I can't," Haruka continued, "When I heard that the weapons financed by my family, I couldn't understand why would Father do something like that. But as I thought longer, he had always preferred Rido and if I did well, then it would bare shame on Rido and voices of support for me as the heir, though tiny, but significant, will increase. Rido's place in our world would wobble. He couldn't let that happen, the title for the absolute heir could only belong to Rido… so he chose to sacrifice me. It is only natural…"

"Don't… say such things with an indifferent face," she scolded him lightly as sat up from their tousled form on her bed. White sheets glided down her smooth curves, but she didn't mind her nakedness like those young, blushing virgin, instead she allowed the cool night to caress her body and stared at Haruka with her clear, pure eyes, flashing intensely at Haruka.

"…" Haruka stared at her face, and reached over for his shirt, dangling off the bed.

"You are not staying for the night?" she asked as she eyed his movement.

"No," Haruka shook his head and his soles landed on the turquoise ceramics which coated the chamber floor, and starting buttoning his shirt. "I have things to do tonight."

"I see," she gathered up the linen bed sheets against her chest, sitting quietly, and watched his back until he was set to leave.

"If I ask you to leave with me, would you?" Haruka looked back as fastened his tie.

Aaliyah looked at him and demanded lightly, "What am I to you, Haruka?"

"You are… a comforting, calming mistress," Haruka answered. "But I can't marry you. I would, but circumstances will not allow this," he told her hastily.

"I don't want to get married again," Aaliyah uttered quietly, gazing after him with her light emerald green pupils. "I've already married once… and that's enough. Plus," she smiled as her eyes wrinkled into imperfect moons, "I like this kind of relationship we have. I wish this would last until death."

"That would be a long time," Haruka remarked, "So you would leave with me?"

Aaliyah shook her head, "No. All my memories are here in this dying country. I want to rot with it."

Haruka said, "…I will be going now." He swung on his coat.

But her beautiful, soft voice stopped him.

"You already know my answer about leaving, Haruka… why did you ask me that?"

She still kept staring at his back with her green, clear, pure eyes. She kept looking and looking.

Haruka stiffed, but he didn't glance back. He lowered his eyes, and his lips thinned.

He waved and muttered, "I will see you around."

A/N: I was warned before hand by my Beta that having this taking place in a Middle-Eastern country-ish world will offend a lot of people.

I am by no mean of making any political statements. All situations created are mere fabrications. I might base some on history I have learned, but I didnt base anything solidly on one, single country.

If you must know, most of the conflict depicted is partly of the Vietnam war, the 1900's Congo, and some pieces of US ad English politics.

**kanameyuki:** Thank you for your review. At this point, romantically, Haruka loves neither Juuri nor his Mother. The reason Haruka sleeps with his Mother will be explained though I am hinted at it before.

**a and n:** Thank you for your review.

**VampireMaddy:** I think I might know you from the VKF. But that aside, thank you for your review. The main reason I didnt mention DNA because it does not seem to affect pureblood vampires. It does affect humans, but in the context I was thinking about it, it didnt matter. But I do agree with you, DNA is the main reason inbreeding is strongly discouraged.

* * *

Oh, and how did you guys like the Rido and Haruka scenes? Originally, it didnt exist in the chapter, but I wanted to explore the relationship between the two brothers. So I went back and edited it in. I was pretty worried that it wouldnt fit.

But now it seems rather fitting with the boost of Rido popularity since chapter 43.

Thank you for reading.


	9. The Crimes of Passion

**Disclaimer:** I do not own VK or King James' Bible

**Warnings:** Dark themes, politics, implied sex, and disturbing situations

* * *

"And I saw the woman drunken with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs."

-**Revelation 17:6**

* * *

One hundred and twenty days.

The affair between Mother and Haruka lasted for a hundred and twenty days until Haruka's departure.

After the ignition of their lust, Haruka often discovered himself in his Mother's bed in the evening and silently picking up his clothes from the floor and returning to his chamber in thief's manner.

Mother taught him of many things during their dirty affiliation.

Her fingers guided his and told him to listen carefully where it would pleasure a woman, of infinite knowledge of flicker of tongue and arousing touches, something the books he had read never taught of: the sexual pleasure that was as old and mysterious as the beginning of life.

She would mew in her soft voice and whisper in breathless words while his hands traveled the secret streams, soft mountains, and deep valleys of her body.

"Yes… Haruka, like this… more… yes, you are doing it… Haruka…"

She would lie on her large, pale bed. Her gown pushed aside to reveal her full breasts, inviting him to join her when he entered the room after receiving her message. He was always reluctant to meet Mother, often pace to and fro in his chamber until he was almost late, but then he remembered that she needed him and he promised her… Despite his dying morals, he couldn't help but end up upon her bed again that evening.

Her pale slender fingers would often tangle themselves amongst Haruka's silken hairs and she would grasp them tightly when he did something right and slacken when they finish and she reached climax.

Haruka panted and sweat formed beads that dripped from his pained brows.

They were always careful with their affair. They chose days where Father was gone which was often, maybe on a business trip to deal with the Senate, or some thickly-veiled escape with his mistresses. It didn't matter. His Father was a busy man and seldom stayed at the mansion for elongated period of time.

Juuri might have suspected, but she had quickly dismissed it from her mind, deeming it impossible. Maybe Haruka was too busy, maybe he had something more important to do than to help her with her course work, maybe he…She overestimated the decency of Haruka, forgetting that the Kuran will always have strands of twisted cruelty and shades of hunger to them. For in her not-yet-mature mind, Haruka presented the saintly epitome of righteousness and kindness unrelated to the nature of the Kuran. However, Haruka always seemed to have spare time for their Mother, which bought the first twinge of jealousy into Juuri's mind, and she began to see her Mother as an emotional rival for affections in this household. The more she acted respectful to her Mother, showering her with sweet adoration to her cold frigid Mother who mostly ignored her presence, the less Juuri loved her in her heart.

Of course, the servants knew very well from their everlasting but hidden presence in the Kuran mansion to their chores of changing tousled beds. They knew very well of the wicked activities going on underneath of the glossy surface of the Kuran family, in fact, it was not so surprising to the older ones. However, they were paid to serve and not to think, and a careless waggle of tongue could cost them their lives.

It was a well-kept secret.

It was four months.

It was one hundred seventy-two thousand and eight hundred hours.

It was a hundred and twenty one days of Sodom and sin.

Haruka's thoughts were faraway; wondering whether Mother was alright without him and whether her strings of lover ever stopped. He thought about Juuri fondly and wished of her good health. She was a lovely little girl and he wished for her to never be tainted with the Kuran sins.

* * *

"How are you finding the little gathering?" Aaliyah asked him as the hostess of a small affair, long before they began their little, scandalous trysts.

It was the first time Aaliyah had spoke to him during the time when Haruka had first arrived to the country and had the first taste of bitter failure.

Haruka recognized Aaliyah by sight from various events and snobbish parties. She was the daughter of a retired Senator, who in his youth was quite respected for his ideal and statue as a veteran as he slowly faded out of the court scene. Aaliyah, through arrangements, married a lowly businessman for a couple of years. They were seemingly happy until the businessman brutally murdered during an official trip to discuss eastern cotton production by the guerillas who believed the newly installed government was the root of all the troubles –the extended drought, the devastating famine, and tyrannical oppression. They tore off her husband's bloody limbs and packaged it to her house one part each month until they ran out of her husband. It mutated into the gossip of the year for the bored, high class ladies, who muttered sympathetic words with famished eyes glittered with excitements for nothing enlightened their lackluster lives more than spilled blood and interesting, grotesque matters.

"I had a pleasant time," Haruka smiled politely but distantly at her. "The cakes were delicious."

Her eyes stared at him so annoyingly that a primal desire in him bubbled to slit those emerald pearls out.

Haruka glanced back coldly when he sensed her scrutiny. He swallowed impatiently as the afternoon sun dawned upon them and the blades of grass reflected those painful rays like pale mirrors. His patience wore thin as the atmosphere grew more unbearable. His mouth parted as he breathed heavily with unease.

He longed to depart from this perfunctory afternoon tea after tasting the dessert and chatting heedlessly with various important members of the cabinets who grumpily made a presentable appearance while some were absent due to their _urgent crafts_. Haruka was getting ready to leave as he sent the loyal Windshire to fetch the carriage who ran off like an over-eager puppy, but taking an extraordinary, irritatingly long time to do so.

He closed his eyes, submerging his enflamed pupils in watery darkness as he leaned against the bark of tree, trying to remain composed and cool.

"What are you doing?" he caught her hand before she touched him, aiming at his forehead. He was surprised by the coolness of her flesh and her concerned eyes.

"You look pained," she said simply, still watching him with her green eyes, peering from her warm, brown skin. Her fingers drooped like wilted flowers as they failed their mission, "I thought maybe you are not used to the heat of his country, and fell to the heat stroke. Father told me to check on his guests."

"No, I am fine," he denied and released her hand quickly, not used to the touch. He paused hesitantly and said, "Thank you."

She looked at his face firmly as if she was testing the truthfulness of his words. Then she glanced away with a careless sigh, "Never mind then. Have a good day, Mister Kuran."

She strolled off in her fluttering traditional dress of thick, dipping damask in a manner as if she were stepping on clouds instead the leaves of grass.

Such incident left a little mark on his view of her, and she became vivid against the dull and grey collection of gibbering social cliques.

They never actively sought for each other, but few looks and, few words were flitted between them as lovely seasons of parties and afternoon teas passed and left in a sweeping, longing fashion like the lacy hems of sophisticated ladies.

Sometime in the flying days, he felt a desire, a want, and despite the warning he felt, glowering in disguise of words of his Father, echoing in his mind like cursed requiems, Haruka reached for her and she looked at him with her beautiful, colorful eyes, and smiled.

There began their courtship. The affair started with careful touches and softly said words at dimly lit restaurants, then it was secret oscular activities in the dark of the shadows, slow and deliberate, sensual and alluring. It was in the movement of the tongue and the light dusting of touches which made him shuddered with famished lust. When he led her to his chamber, Haruka did not hesitate, while he was a considerate lover, but he wasn't careful for he understood he would not be her first or her last.

They were both creatures of congenial nature.

Haruka was a twice cursed man, first by nature and by parentage, offered as a sacrificial lamb for all the sins of his kind.

Aaliyah accepted that. She took him into her warm embrace and listened when no one could: he had found enemies and disbelievers in his family while fervent admirers in Windshire and Aidoh.

Where he knew she didn't understand the words that dripped from his lips like a loose faucet, yet he wanted someone to hear him. It was a pathetic weak emotion that he wished to disown, to part it from himself, but it was also the only visible vulnerability he allowed himself to express within the limits of his bounds for he had been wondering thoughtlessly through these dark empty halls for too long.

Haruke remembered his first failure as the General stroke down his proposal mercilessly in mid-session and jested at his attempt while the whole court watched on with greedy eyes and vicious grins plastered on their faceless visages.

Haruka was cruelly humiliated and his pride torn into shreds all for the sake of the General to establish his authority over everyone and anyone, even someone sent from a respectable source.

He had only suggested instead of the proposed plan of executing the whole army of rebellious guerilla, with an estimate of a thousand men, to have a public stoning of the leader as an example for all the others. Fear of death may be a more effective weapon and tool of manipulation than the wasted lives of young, healthy men with combat experience. It would be easy to twist their thoughts and sculpt them into the soldiers and man power this country desperately needed.

However, the General decided that the young men have made their choice and the execution must be carried out for betrayal could only be atoned with death. The General had no tolerance for traitors and was furious that Haruka wished to disobey despite his fierce advocacy for their death.

The Parliament appeased to the Senate's decision, because after all, those members were just dancing puppets of the General who chose them according to their loyalty to him, filthy tyranny under the glossy pretext of a fair regime.

As Haruka gathered his power, corruption filtered through his fingers and fell upon his lap. His methods were as dirty as it was tangled where every pawn, rook, and bishop was affiliated and stringed together through their pearls and jewels of moneyed and dishonored ties.

Too bad he had never found a fondness for chess, or otherwise he would have adored this game.

* * *

"I beat you again!" Rido laughed with triumph.

Haruka blinked, unable to understand the reason of such happiness. He was awful at chess because he didn't understand why was the King so weak, and why was the knight's move so limited and odd yet it was the most powerful weapon on the board, while Rido had years of experience with playing with Father and various adults during their spare time. Rido was quite the celebrated chess player.

Haruka pursed his lips and felt the first inkling of anger at his loss and at Rido. But he felt ashamed for such disgusting emotions and quickly brushed it away.

Rido, at the realization of his petty action, blushed and replied humbly, "Of course, Haruka you tried very hard. It was a good game."

He held out his hand over the ivory checked board.

Haruka shook it grudgingly, and sat back down.

"C'mon Haruka," Rido could tell that his little brother was upset by the way the cute little pureblood pouted and lightly bent his brows. "I'm sorry I acted a bit arrogant."

"I am not mad," Haruka answered in a deflated voice as he fingered an ivory pawn in his hand.

"Rido…" Haruka hesitated as he swallowed with difficulty, "Am I weak for a pureblood?"

The delicate little pawn in Haruka fingers suddenly exploded into million of white marbles, and Rido commanded furiously, slamming his fist onto the elegant board and the poor, expensive things cracked, "What? Who said that? Is it that baron again? I thought I had given him a quite unforgettable warning about harping on purebloods!"

Haruka's mouth parted in astonish at Rido's heated response. "I just heard it around…" Haruka faltered sadly. His fingers twisted into a nervous bundle. "The maids sometime don't know I could hear them talking…" He looked up abruptly, "I didn't mean to listen to their conversation, but…"

Haruka continued before Rido could interrupt, "I know Father thinks I am soft because I don't like punishing servants or vampires under us when they are disrespectful. I know I dislike killing level Es… but does that make me weak?"

"No," Rido said firmly, "You are my brother. You are not weak. If you don't like inflicting pain on others, then I will do it for you. If you don't like killing level Es, I will kill them for you. Trust me, you are not weak. You are just kind-hearted, though I don't know who you inherited that trait from, but when I am the heir, no one will say anything wicked about you. I will make sure of it."

Rido reassured Haruka warmly with blood thirsty determination hardening in his eyes, "When I am the heir, I will have so much power that no one will doubt your kindness anymore. I will be able to do anything I want."

"I promise you Haruka," Rido said confidently, comforting his beloved little brother.

* * *

Haruka sighed wearily and ran a hand through his hair as he sat outside the General's office as he had waited for the last couple of hours.

He had dozed off momentarily, and thought about an old pass time between Rido and him.

He disliked those sudden relapses that bought memories of things that should not be bothering him so for the past few years. The smallest things will trigger some sensitive sensation and images would rush into his brain, causing him pain and sadness of the innocent beauty that will never return again.

Haruka exhaled and glanced at the secretary.

The secretary had promised that the General will receive him in ten minutes, but those minutes have past and gone yet no sign that he would be relieved of this infuriating punishment yet.

Windshire came back last night with dangerous signs. He spoke seriously of some surprise attack on all important military capitals planned, but couldn't say the vague time it would struck for he explained that he had only caught winds of it. Windshire had inferred that it might strike the end of summer or early autumn during where all people of this culture prepare their Festival to welcome the coming of cooler air, but his sources were discovered and he had heard no more from them. Windshire had always handled the external affairs while Haruka worked in the capitals to secure their wobbling position.

Windshire recounted that the guerillas were heavily and greatly armed, funded by some neighboring countries and great corporations who looked forward to developing their domination over the country's rich natural resource when then tyranny or rather when the General's power crumbles. They were the same companies who invested in the death of the old government when its sovereigns were protective of their land and wouldn't allow their exploitation, but when the new government and the General usurped the golden crown and the bejeweled scepter, he grew greedy and his eyes lit up like a wolf's yellow pupils at the prospects of the abundant resources and the wealth it would bring. He raised the price of those metallic goods, creating a monopoly of the precious metals, and when those investors discovered that their puppets sprouted conscious of its own, they interfered. They required a new doll that bowed down to their will, to train a new dog.

The guerilla offered their hands for they were desperate for any kind of aid, and the unholy union was formed.

One of the investors was an organization established by the Kuran family, directed and babied by the very heir of the Kuran clan.

Father never wanted the General's success. He wanted to control the government, to be the master of marionettes, not share it with some foolish human.

Haruka was just a smokescreen to mask his desire and his plans, presence to bend to the General's wishes but sinking a fatal silvery blade into the running veins of this country that sprawled like capillaries of a leave while he distracted all, the final play and the final director of the show, the mastermind.

Haruka couldn't lose for the pride of Kuran nor should he win for the success of the Kuran.

His Father had cornered Haruka like a trapped beast. Haruka had struggled against those rough and tight chains that bounded his ankles and wrists, locking himself for hours in his room thinking, just _thinking_ for a path to a perfect solution until Windshire knocking, worrying for Haruka's silence. Haruka was bleeding and he gave up in that cage where its walls scrawled with his suffering.

In the end, he called Winshire to his room and expressionlessly gave him instructions.

Haruka stared at the elaborate crimson walls of the waiting room outside the General's office and asked himself why he was doing this, why he bothered trying to save this worthless piece of trash. The General was a despicable, unpleasant man whom he spent five years with trying to change his ways with no avail. It had done nothing because annoyance and pain for him.

Haruka stood up and with a polite smile, told the secretary that he must leave now and he would discuss with the General next time.

As Haruka left, a woman from a nearby brothel ushered her perfumed coquettes in, and one of them complained loudly of uncouth places and another eyed with flirtation.

He could hear the secretary informing in his deadpan voice that that the General had been waiting for them and asked them to come into his office.

Nausea rose up Haruka's throat, threatening to spill, and he felt sickened to the stomach.  
He raised his hand and signaled for his carriage.

That night he sat outside of on his balcony, watching the magnificent night view of the city, with its dotted colorful lights that seems so magical in the way it formatted puzzles and constellations of the land. Its old, beautiful architecture that flowered by its earthy streets where merchants sat with their basket of goods in front lined its streets. The dry and hot air of the day cooled in the mystic night where he could trace every single star of the galaxy.

It was a lovely city, especially at night.

Then Haruka murmured Windshire's name.

"Haruka?" the young man materialized almost instantly.

"Cancel all operations," Haruka said, "We are pulling out."

"What?" sputtered Windshire, bewildered, "But all our hard work! What's Master Kuran going to say? Your reputation back home is going to be…"

"Butchered?" Haruka laughed, "I am ready with my punishment. What's the worst they could do to me, a pureblood?"

"…Fine," Windshire agreed bitterly, "When are we leaving?"

"I have a rather special plan for that. It will entertain you Windshire," Haruka said lightly. "I think you will appreciate it."

Windshire stared at Haruka's face for a moment and sighed, "What do you need me to do?"

* * *

"Rido," a young ten-years old Haruka approached Rido wearily. His fingers mingled into a guilty knot.

Rido looked up from the chair where he nursed his wounds and attempted to smile, but winced when it pulled on a bad laceration.

"I'm sorry," Haruka whimpered as he watched the bleeding cuts.

"No!" Rido shook his head quickly, "Don't worry Haruka it will heal soon. It doesn't even hurt that much!" But his pale visage and slightly trembling fingers betrayed him.

"I should have killed that level E," Haruka came by Rido like a frightened puppy, testing if Rido would reject him. A part of him wished he did so Haruka could be punished and feel a peace of mind, but another part was deathly afraid of losing the only person Haruka ever felt close to. "I shouldn't have let my emotions get better of me."

"It is okay. Dad didn't hit me that hard!" Rido tried to play it off, but swallowed with difficulty when the bruise sent another jolt of pain shooting up his cheek. "At least he didn't punish you. He only punished me and I am glad you didn't get hurt, Haruka."

"I wished he did…" Haruka murmured, eyeing the bloody bruise on Rido's cheek where he took the blow from Father who was furious to discover that instead of Haruka, Rido had took his place and murdered the notorious killer of several virgins of nearby region and drifted near due to the concentration of pureblood presence. Vampire were always attracted to powers.

Rido had defended Haruka when Haruka was questioned and openly defied his own Father for the first time, insisting that this "course" wasn't necessary and Haruka didn't need to do this. Rido was severely castigated from his much admired Father and Haruka didn't suffer a cut after being ordered out of the chamber so Father could "speak" to Rido alone.

Haruka had heard the blow echoing down the hall and felt that it blood had frozen in his veins.

Haruka promised himself. The next time he will not be weak. He must be strong for Rido. He couldn't let Rido take his punishment anymore since Father realized that it was the best way to hurt his younger son: to be tortured by immense guilt.

Haruka swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut as scent of delicious blood flooded the air.

He must expel this uncharacteristic personality from himself and become a real pureblood.

* * *

"You have been acting strange for the past few weeks," Aaliyah said with certainty.

Haruka looked up from the mutton he had been cutting to answer with a smile, pretending as if he had never left, and returned to slicing the mutton meat from the bone. It was a bit too overcooked, he noted.

"What is going on?" Aaliyah was not to be distracted with a single, charming smile. "What are you planning?" Her brows tangled themselves into a messy bow. She placed her fork down and watched Haruka with a frown.

Haruka met her eyes, lowered his knife and reached to caress her soft, exotic face. He leaned over, kissed her, and said, "Are you sure you don't want to leave with me?"

"I'm sure," she replied with impatience in her voice. "I am concerned about you, Haruka. You are barely answering my questions."

"Really?" Haruka raised an eyebrow, and asked, "How are you enjoying the food?"

"It's lovely," Aaliyah closed her eyes in annoyance, and snapped. "Haruka, stop avoiding my question. What the hell is going on?"

"I think it is better if you don't know," Haruka finally replied. He looked calmly at Aaliyah's face. "I would hate for you to get yourself involved in this political intricate. I just want to enjoy this dinner with you without having to think about my work. It is stressful right now, and I could only feel relieved of it with you."

"You are not going to get yourself killed, right?" Aaliyah allowed emotion to break through her voice. She realized it, caught herself, and laughed herself silly. "I'm sorry. I just don't deal with this very well. You know, my late husband…" her eyes of soften with old affection, "It's nothing." She shook her head with a hasty smile and a quick change of tone.

"I will not be killed," Haruka touched her fingers, and wrapped his hand around them, comforting her. "It is hard to destroy me. Don't worry." He was surprised she brought up her late husband. She didn't talk about him much in their time together. Strangely, because she would converse about anything else. He had only gathered sparse information about her marriage from Windshire, he knew nothing about it from her.

She nodded and picked up her fork.

"But," Haruka started with a gentle smile, "I am happy that you worried for me. Where I grew up, no one ever harbored this emotion for me. They've all expected perfection. You are the first one that worried for me. I am really happy."

Aaliyah stared at him and said, "Now I can't even be mad at you anymore."

Later that night, they walked around the lake resting outside the bounds of the city, strolling leisurely and talking with each other. He held her hand and led her on around the artificial lake, where its surface wimbled with the light wind under the silvery moonlight. The nights were chilly in the desert. He took off his jacket and draped it around Aaliyah's shoulder.

"You've always hid something from me, Haruka," she pointed out lightly.

"I can't tell you," he replied in an apologetic tone.

"Never? Even at this time?"

"Maybe in a hundred years," Haruka smiled, gazing up at the black, clothed sky. He was always more energetic during the night as she had noticed, "On the eve of your birthday, I will come to you and tell you my secret." _So please live for a long, long time, Aaliyah._

"What if I die before that time, will I never know it then?"

"Then," Haruka picked up a flat stone from the ground and flicked it on the surface of the silvery lake. They both watched it skipped on the roiling water for many steps until it finally sunk under, pulling by magnetic forces.

"Then…" his pupils reflected the perfect moon, "In a hundred years, I will come to your grave, sing you a requiem, dig a small hole in the ground, and whisper my secret into it."

"I will try to live until we meet again," Aaliyah agreed softly.

"We will," Haruka promised. "You are a very strong woman, Aaliyah."

He had reserved a small cabin around the area for the night. It was a nice to spend a careless night with her without having to think about all the other frivolous frustrations, like the strange calm before the storm, or a fitter description, he rested in the eye of the storm, where the walls of blasting winds circled and threatened him.

After a heated and passionate lovemaking, he watched her figure rolled off him, touching his sides only lightly. She grasped the sheets tightly against her sweating face that glittered like diamonds against chocolate, facing the opposite direction so he couldn't see her expression. His eyes traced down the graceful lines of her back as her cover only concerned itself with her front. Her thick, messily coiling hair adored her bare scented shoulders and neck, trickling down in rich curls, glistened in the white moonlight on the white bed.

"Aaliyah, I am leaving," Haruka said. His words lingered in the air and died away, blown apart by the cool breeze.

She didn't answer him. If the air didn't tremble with the pattern of her breaths, he would have thought she had fallen asleep.

It was a long time, until he had given up for a reply.

She spoke evenly, her voice slightly hoarse from wear. She said calmly, almost too calmly, "I will miss you."

They didn't exchange any words after that, but he was quite sure that none of them slept that night.

In the morning, they ate breakfast together quietly, speaking in soft words only when necessary.

Afterward, he kissed her gently on the forehead and thanked her for all the kindness she had given him these years.

She shook her head and answered that it was nothing, sharing a last embrace, burying her face against his chest because she didn't want to see his expression.

Everything was caring and slow as if it were a precious ritual between them.

As she turned away to her carriage, he said, "Wait…"

She spun around, looking at him expectantly.

"Tell me…" his voice cracked a little in the end, "Tell me about your husband." The forbidden subject, something they avoided in great detail, but he wanted to know suddenly. He wanted to know about her youthful passion and love. He wanted to know how she was before they've meet. He wanted to know about her love that he never received. He wanted to know about the rotten wound that she never recovered from, and sometimes, he knew she felt like she was betraying that man he never seen by being his lover.

"Amir," she inhaled as if she were trying to steady herself, but it still came out broken, "Amir was twenty when we married. He liked my smile and my eyes. He used to cook scramble eggs on Sunday mornings for me. When he leaves for his work… he always kisses me and tells me he will come back by seven. When he made love to me," water in her eyes wobbled dangerously, "it was slow and sensual as if he had all the time in the world. He could give me anything I want, and he… he will never return to me again."

When it was time to leave this wonderful dream, they held each other's gaze for a moment, his dark crimson and her golden green, and without words, without sounds, as the wind blew quietly, they parted ways with silence farewells.

Without warning, spring came and left, carrying with her, thousands of delightful colors and warmth.

Slowly summer crept in with little orange cat's feet, bringing with him rains of fire and foreboding shadow of Mars, the god of warfare.

The golden green grasses curled up into yellowing dead blades. But flowers blossomed beautifully, as young buds burst open and invited flirtatious bugs to their lustful beds.

Haruka noted the seasons passing and began the countdown.

* * *

A/N: I am really, really sorry for the lack of updates. I took a break for school, and then my computer was infected with a virus. But that's no excuse, however I am back now and I've planned out the storyline.

I am hesitated about posting this chapter, because originally, it didnt have much to do the with Kuran family and more to do with Haruka's life beyond it. I wasn't sure if anyone would be interested in it, so I divided it with sections from Haruka and Rido's childhood.

If you are still reading this story, thank you very words from my readers are encouragements and help me in finishing this story.


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